Both Sides Now
by Nutsaboutremus
Summary: There is a thin line between obsession and love. Draco knew this. Ginny did not. DG, PostHogwarts, PostHPB. READ AND REVIEW PLEASE.
1. Prelude

**BOTH SIDES NOW**

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine…_

* * *

_I've looked at love from both sides now  
From give and take, and still somehow  
It's love's illusions I recall  
I really don't know love at all_

_I've looked at life from both sides now  
From win and lose and still somehow  
It's life's illusions I recall  
I really don't know life at all  
_

- 'Both Sides Now' by Joni Mitchell

* * *

**PRELUDE**

Ginny Weasley was not known to be guileless or naïve.

At the age of eleven she had been possessed by the Dark Lord himself and had been made to do dark deeds no other wizard or witch her age had been made to do, not even the children of Deatheaters. By the time she was seventeen, she had fought against Deatheaters numerous times and even aided in the defeat of Voldermort during the final battle.

While Ron and Hermione decided to take the death of Voldermort as the opportunity to proclaim their love for each other and enjoy matrimonial bliss, Harry decided to use it as a chance to make a clean break from the burden of being 'The Boy Who Lived' and pursue a much-desired quidditch career, the rest of her friends and family considered their part in fighting in The War over and continued with their own lives, pursued their own interests, Ginny decided to become an Auror much to the chagrin of her mother and her understandably astonished family and friends.

It was not so much an addiction to the Dark Arts as Charlie had mentioned jokingly more than once. It was not even because she had always dreamt of being an Auror – that was Ron's dream but he was busy playing house-husband while Hermione labored away, rebuilding Hogwarts into the school it once was. It was not even because of what Kingsley had said, after Voldermort had been killed by Harry, about The Second War being far from over.

Even though Hermione, Ron and Harry had found all the horcruxes and destroyed them, hence preventing Voldermort from resurrecting, there were still numerous Deatheaters in hiding, Deatheaters who needed to be found and caught before they got together and planned an uprising of their own.

That was not why Ginny became an Auror – as much as a Gryffindor she was, her intentions were not that noble. The nobility of the cause appealed to her, no doubt there but the main reason she became an Auror was because after years of battling with Voldermort and his Deatheaters, she could not imagine herself doing anything else. _That_ was what that had given her confidence, given her friends, proven to her brothers that she could take care of herself, even brought her closer to Harry – something she had wanted very much for sometime until she had realized that it was not meant to be.

Being involved in fighting Deatheaters and defeating Voldermort had not been a burden to her. It had given her existence a much-required purpose. Unlike Harry or Luna, she had no expectional quidditch skills or a family business to take over. Unlike her brother Ron, she had no love of her life to live for, no family to plan for. All she had was her skills in taking down Deatheaters, all she had was her passion in putting a stop to Dark Arts.

That was why she became an Auror and she never regretted it, till the day she realized that she had been hoodwinked and manipulated by the most hunted, most elusive, most ruthless and ambitious Deatheater – Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, Voldermort's right hand man and most trusted aide.

**_TBC_**

* * *

****

**A/N: Let me know what you think please…..**


	2. Part One

**BOTH SIDES NOW**

_Disclaimer: Anything you see or recognize is not mine_

* * *

**Part One**

_A couple of months before,_

Ginny had just gotten back from an exhausting yet futile midnight raid in Fox Hill where they had suspected Goyle was residing. Goyle had remained in hiding ever since the War ended and his name had been added to the list of deatheaters most wanted for war crimes committed against muggles and wizarding folk.

Ginny had not been assigned to that raid but had joined it not because of any personal interest in Goyle's case but because she was hoping to interrogate him on the whereabouts of Draco Malfoy, the one Deatheater she was bent on catching before any other Auror did. Unlike Goyle who was clumsy and left a wide trail of clues leading to his hideouts, Malfoy had not been sighted even once since the demise of his Dark Lord.

Catching him was considered impossibile to all the Aurors except Ginny who loved a good challenge. Besides, she had excellent Auror skills procured from years of experience and working alongside the best like Harry and Hermione, skills that even the retired Mad Eye Moody who was consultant to the Auror department admired. He had been the one who saw her potential and suggested to her, after she had completed her Auror training, that if anyone could catch Malfoy, it was her but she would have to persevere and set her mind to it, no matter how long it took her and no matter how difficult it got. They never thought they would catch Lucius but look, now he was behind bars, locked up forever in Azakaban.

It did not matter that the Auror Department had not opened an official case on Draco Malfoy and hence had no team assigned to track him down because he had not been seen since the end of The War and was presumed to be dead. Mad Eye Moody had told her that she could just work on it during her free time, in between her cases.

So ever since then, Ginny had wanted to capture Malfoy. At first her colleagues, family and friends laughed or joked whenever she talked about it but as time passed and Ginny proved her skills in profiling Deatheaters, tracking them down and nabbing them, everyone started to take her seriously and even her supervisor, Kingsley gave her time off to gather data and free rein to go on missions or raids unrelated to her caseload to aid in locating Malfoy.

Yet, three years after completing her Auror training and becoming a full time professional Auror, she was no closer to finding Malfoy. Even paying a visit to Lucius Malfoy at Azakaban had not helped – the old man was a blabbering, incoherent mess who did not even remember who his son was. It did not help that Narcissa had killed herself during the War when it all got too much for her, what with her son on the frontlines, fighting for Voldermort and her husband rotting away in Azakaban. Even Snape, Malfoy's protector and mentor and Bellatrix Lestrange, his aunt, was dead having been killed during The War, hence removing any sort of ties Malfoy would have had to Britain. All this lead to only one logical conclusion – Malfoy had fled from England and was residing overseas. Not that this narrowed down Ginny's search in anyway; it just brought her back to square one.

However, something nagged at her sleepless-numbed brain about that night's unsuccessful raid. The entire team who had been working on tracking Goyle had been dead sure that was his latest hideout. The unsuspecting Deatheater had left a clumsy trail to Fox Hill and Aurors on the teams even had photographs of Goyle in the old deserted mansion on Fox Hill, obtained while staking him out. They had been watching him for months, knew every single detail of his routine - when he slipped out to the nearby shop to replenish his groceries, when he went to bed, when he received conjugal visits from a muggle woman whom he paid.

Ginny had read all this in the file they had complied on him, handed to her by Dave Powers, the Auror who had been assigned to head the Goyle case. So it was a mighty shock after months of collating evidence and round the clock surveillance to break into his house with his warrant of arrest only to find the entire place deserted and no trace of Goyle ever having been there at all.

Ginny suspected that the usually clumsy, oblivious and conspicuous Goyle had received outside help. But how could he have known that he was being watched by the Aurors? How could he have known that he was going to be arrested that night? Who would have been able to provide him with such inside information?

Ginny pondered those questions as she sat at her desk, leaning back in her chair, her bare feet up on her desk, her worn out dragon skin boots discarded on the floor of her cluttered, cramped cubicle, her desk and a file cabinet taking up the rest of the space. Her lack of office space did not bother her since she spent more time in the field than at her desk.

She only sat at her desk when she needed to get the necessary paperwork done or think and study the little information she had managed to gather about Malfoy.

Papered all over the wall of her cubicle that faced her desk were old photographs of Malfoy, newspaper cuttings, all the Daily Prophet articles about him during the War, his involvement in infiltrating Hogwarts, his attempt in assassinating Dumbeldore, his activities during the War, then a list Ginny had made from all the Auror files about all the wizards and muggles Malfoy had killed during the War, another official list released by the Ministry of Magic listing the crimes Malfoy was wanted for, Daily Prophet articles about his mother's suicide and Snape's death, some profiles on Malfoy done by her colleagues and senior Aurors, a reading on Malfoy Clan history that Hermione had gotten for her from a book on the History of Wizarding Britain and even a map of the world where she had crossed out Britain as the least likely place Draco would be in.

From her seat at her desk she could look at them anytime she wanted to and add any new bits of information or take down any article that piqued her interest. Her colleagues had dubbed it '**The Malfoy Wall of Fame**'.

Ginny decided something was lacking on her wall – a list of all of the Deatheaters Malfoy had been particularly close to who happened to be alive.

She put down Goyle, Flint and Pansy Parkinson and could think of no one else since Zabini, Nott, and Crabbe had been killed in The Second War. Then as she studied the list she had made, she realized that all of the Deatheaters on the list had not been captured yet.

Six years since the War had ended and dozens of Deatheaters had been tracked down and captured since then, save for Malfoy and coincidentally his three friends. Ginny did not believe in coincidences.

She stood up, slipped on her boots and walked down the meandering hallway, cutting through various cubicles to get to the corner cubicle that belonged to Arthur Shlesinger or Artie as they called him. He would most likely be around. The Auror Headquarters was always relatively busy at this late hour with some Aurors filling in reports after midnight raids or assignments and other Aurors catching up with work.

She knew Artie had been recently placed in charge of a team assigned to locate Parkinson, the only living female death eater of Malfoy's generation. She had been recently spotted at Gringotts, using a Polyjuice Potion that made her look like her mother – it would have worked had it not been for the fact that her mother had been taken in for interrogation just that very day. The Goblins, unaware of this allowed her to take funds from the family account and walk away.

After releasing Mrs. Parkinson who insisted she had no clue as to her daughter's whereabouts, one of the newbie Aurors was assigned to tail her. The Auror, Eunice Kissinger, found out that Mrs. Parkinson was having a problem at Gringotts regarding missing funds but refused to let the goblins notify the Auror Headquarters, citing it as a family issue best kept private. The Aurors got their hands on Gringotts' security cameras and with their newly discovered special charms managed to identify the person behind the polyjuice potion – Pansy Parkinson.

If Ginny was not wrong, they had not spotted her since. That was what she had to check with Artie.

"Hey, Artie." Ginny said, walking into his cubicle which was slightly more spacious than hers but even more untidy with piles of documents and books everywhere.

Artie was eleven years older than her. Unlike most of the other Aurors, he had not fought in The War, not even in one single battle. He had helped out in the research, doling out vast amounts of information regarding Voldermort and every one of his Deatheaters based on books, witness accounts, Harry's accounts of Tom Riddle passed on to him by Dumbledore etc. He was the one who has given Ginny the profile he had done on Malfoy during the War, which was pinned up on her '_Malfoy Wall of Fame'_.

"Ginny," He looked up from the documents he had been plowing through, removing his spectacles and rubbing his bleary eyes. "It's one in the morning. What are you still doing at the office?" He asked her, almost scolding.

Ginny grinned, "I should be asking you the same thing."

Artie rolled his eyes and put on his spectacles, smiling wrly. "I'm thirty three and married to my job."

"Same story here, mate." She shot back, smiling.

"So what is it then? You didn't come here all the way to chat did you?" Artie asked, expectantly, suddenly all business-like.

Ginny folded her arms across her chest, getting serious, "I wanted to know about Parkinson. You've seen her yet? Got any leads on her?"

Artie pursed his lips and frowned, before summoning a file with his wand and leafing through it, all the while muttering, "Not that I recall. I've been sending Craig and Henry out the past week to stake out Mrs. Parkinson's house, just in case. They gave me their report today…. let me check if there's anything of value…."

Ginny leaned against the doorway of his cubicle, waiting patiently. He closed the file shut, shaking his head, "Nothing...it seems like Pansy's Mum's clean after all…She has no clue about her daughter's whereabouts...My boys even bugged the floo system at her place...they did not come up with anything except some conversations with her legal officers to change her Gringotts password... seems like she's protecting herself from her daughter."

Ginny nodded, disappointed. "Thanks Artie. You'd better get some sleep."

"You too!" He called out as she walked off.

But Ginny did not sleep that night. She did not even go back to her apartment at Diagon Alley. She apparated to the Malfoy Manor, something she did now and then, when something was bothering her. The first time she had come here was to check the place out as part of gathering information on Malfoy. Ginny had never been able to get past the gate – apparition wards had been put up all around the estate and only a search warrant could authorize breaking through those wards. No sight of Malfoy meant no official case and hence there was no way to obtain a warrant.

The second time she had wound up there with no plan or thought to do so. Her mother had been nagging at her, during a particular visit to The Burrow, to focus more on her personal life than her career; perhaps then Harry would take her back. But Ginny did not want Harry, not anymore. All they had was history, nothing else. Harry knew it; she knew it, why could not her mother see that? Feeling more than slightly nettled, she found herself apparating to the Malfoy Manor where she spent a few hours traipsing the fields around the estate that belonged to the village nearby.

Something about the place, the looming deserted house, the still silent grounds, the rolling lawns that were now unkempt and filled with overgrown weeds, the mist that surrounded the Manor in the cold of the night, the aura of power and prestige that it still emanated despite its deteriorating condition and most of all the enigma of its history, the history of its occupants intrigued Ginny yet calmed her at the same time.

Now she was here not to ponder about her personal life – or lack of it - but rather to think about Malfoy, to put herself in his shoes, to see the world through his eyes, think with his mind and figure out what he would have done after The War, where he would have gone and where he would be right this moment.

She thought about all that she knew about him – third person accounts, all those articles her own bits and pieces of memories of him from Hogwarts, seeing him fight and kill in The War.

She stared at the house, noted how massive it was and wondered if it was possible for someone to live in there without showing any signs of life in the house. Then, just like that, she knew where Malfoy was hiding all this while. Right here, in his home.

It was incredible that she had not thought of it earlier. Malfoy Manor was massive - there were bound to be hidden rooms for him to stay in, underground tunnels that helped him to keep in touch with the outside world or any of the house elves he might have living with him to get out of the house without being seen in order to replenish supplies.

It was just a theory though. She needed evidence; floor plans of the Malfoy Manor if such things were obtainable and a map of the entire estate.

She decided to apparate back home to take a quick nap, wash up and head back to the office so that she could talk to Kingsley first thing in the morning.

As she turned around to apparate, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, as if someone was watching her. She turned back and stared at the house, her wand at the read position, her eyes roving over every single visible window, most of the glass panes broken and window shutters hanging loose, but saw nothing, no one.

When she apparated, she was filled with the distinct sensation that she was being watched and not for the first time.

* * *

"You're mad, Ginny." Kingsley told her the moment she finished telling him her theory regarding Malfoy's whereabouts and the need for evidence to back it up.

He was rummaging his file cabinets for a specific file he needed to hand Tonks who had been waiting patiently ever since Ginny barged into Kingsley's office, insisting that she had something very urgent to discuss with her supervisor.

"That's what people said when Dumbeldore announced that Voldermort had returned." Tonks pointed out.

Ginny shot her a grateful look, "I don't need much. Just a floor plan of the Malfoy Manor."

Kingsley straightened up with an exasperated sigh and turned to face the young Auror, "Ginny, that's not possible. No plan or layout of the Malfoy Estate has been filed in the public records. The only ones available, I suspect, are in the Malfoy library itself. The only sources you can rely on are those reports done by any Auror or Ministry official who has been in that house but even that you know is very limited in its scope and most likely will not help."

Ginny was about to open her mouth and suggest a search warrant when Kingsley pre-empted her and put his hand out, "Don't even think about a search warrant. You know the rules."

"No sighting means no official case which means no warrant." Ginny recited monotonously, rolling her eyes. Tonks laughed.

Kingsley shook his head, amused. Then he glanced at his desk, "Ah! Here's the file." He grabbed the folder, which had been placed on his large oak desk in a very visible spot. He handed it to a bemused Tonks who followed Ginny out of the office, down the corridor.

"Don't be disheartened, Ginny. You of all people should know that rules have loopholes." Tonks reminded her, and then with a reassuring pat on her shoulder, she walked off.

Before Ginny could spend more time mulling over ways to get into the Malfoy Manor, Anthony Goldstein or Tony as he was called, one of the Aurors on the same team as herself, rushed over and reminded her about the assigement they had that morning – staking out two twenty year old wizards who were suspected of shoplifting on various occasions in Knockturn Alley. A rudimentary, boring stakeout but it had to be done.

By the time Ginny got back it was past noon. Most of the morning had been wasted following the two suspects who turned out to be stealing dark objects to impress their muggle girlfriends. A report had to be written and sent to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for them to decide the best possible action for the lovelorn youths and it was Ginny's turn to do it this time since Tony had written a report the last time they had gone on a mission together.

Ginny sat down at her desk with weary sigh, dreading the paperwork, her mind itching to find a way to reaffirm her suspicions about Malfoy hiding from the rest of the world and living like a hermit in the Malfoy Manor ever since The War ended.

Then a small piece of paper placed right on top of the cluttered mess of folders and documents on her table caught her attention. She might not have noticed it if not for the distinctively elegant cursive scrawl on it. The handwriting was distinct and large enough for her to read the words written on the paper, without picking it up.

_You're getting warmer_

The writer was obviously referring to the game children often played where if they got closer to the spot a specific object was hidden, they were told that they were getting warmer.

It took a split second for Ginny to figure out who the author of the note might be. It took another half a second for it to sink in. She rose from her chair so abruptly that it fell to the floor with a thud and she backed away from her desk, from where the incriminating note lay.

There was only one person she was searching for at the moment– there was no other deatheater tracking case she was involved in at that point of time. It was in regard to that same person's possible location that she had recently had a revelation.

**Draco Malfoy.**

How would he have known about her theory? Only Kingsley and Tonks knew about it and they were the last two people in the world who would betray the cause. Malfoy could not have used bugging devices – the entire Auror Headquarters had anti-bugging wards placed around it ever since during The War. How had he gotten access to such insider information?

How had he been able to get into the Ministry of Magic without being spotted, and right into the Auror headquarters? How had he been able to leave that note on her desk? Even if he used an invisibility cloak or a disillusionment charm, there was still the question as to how he had obtained information about her progress on locating him? And what if he came back again the same way he had today but this time while she was at her desk and not out in the field?

Ginny attempted to calm herself down by taking a few deep breaths to slow down her racing pulse. She had seen innocent people die, she had killed a few Deatheaters, she had witnessed Muggles being tortured, and this was nothing – that was what she told herself but not what she believed. When the person you were tracking down and keeping an eye out for seemed to be keeping an even closer eye on you, it was truly unsettling, especially when he was a ruthless Deatheater like Malfoy.

Ginny pushed away those thoughts, moved back towards her desk and pointed her wand at the piece of paper, muttering the incantation for the fingerprints locating charm. There was nothing.

She was not surprised. Now that she calmed down and thought about it rationally, she did not find it shocking that this was the work of Malfoy. He had progressively come to be known as the epitome of stealth during the War. His brilliant and fully successful attempt in infiltrating Hogwarts had convinced Voldermort to make him the youngest Deatheater to ever have a say in stealth missions, a move that made The Order fear and loathe him.

She grabbed an evidence bag from her drawer, and with a flick of her wand, bagged the note. She sent it over to Danielle who was in charge of handwriting analysis at the Auror Headquarters with a note attached stating that the analysis was required urgently.

She wanted to talk to Kingsley or even Tonks and report the breach of security to them but she knew the both of them had gone for an interdepartmental meeting that would last the entire afternoon.

She sent another note, to Tony, promising to cover his shift tomorrow night if he wrote the report for their assignment instead.

After putting up wards around her cubicle – just in case –, grabbing her cloak and wand, she made her way to the lift, up to the lobby of the Ministry of Magic from where she could apparate back to The Burrow.

When one's nerves were rattled the way hers had been, Ginny knew the best place to be was back at home, curled up in her favorite armchair by the fireplace with a warm mug of her mother's homemade ginger tea, never mind the incessant maternal nagging.

**_TBC _**

* * *

****

**A/n: Let me know what you think please…**


	3. Part Two

**BOTH SIDES NOW**

_Disclaimer: Anything you see or recognize is not mine.._

* * *

**Part Two**

Hermione was the only one who still tried to discourage her from taking on the search for Malfoy. She pinned it on how dangerous Malfoy was, what a heartless deatheater he had been during The War but Ginny knew those were not the real reasons for Hermione's concern.

After all, Hermione had been one of the few people who had supported Ginny's decision to become an Auror. She had no qualms about her closest female friend facing danger on a daily basis. Hermione knew all too well that Ginny was more than capable of defending herself in the face of such physical threats.

So as they sat in the living room at The Burrow after a hearty meal courtesy of her mother, watching her father doze off in his rocking chair as he did nowadays after a heavy meal and listening to the sounds of Ron helping his mother with the dishes in the kitchen, Ginny finally decided to ask Hermione why she was so disapproving of her attempt to track down Malfoy.

Hermione was not as startled by her question as Ginny had expected her to be. She had known something was on Ginny's mind as she had been uncharacteristically quiet during dinner. Even when Mrs.Weasley mentioned the fact that Charlie and a bunch of his male friends were dropping by for dinner tomorrow night and not so subtly suggested that Ginny come for dinner as well, Ginny had simply stated that she had an assignment at that time, without snapping at her mother or stomping off as she usually did when her mother came up with one scheme or another to get her single daughter married off.

Even though Hermione knew work for an Auror was rather preoccupying, she knew that was not exactly what the younger witch was obsessing about.

"You've been thinking about Malfoy all evening, haven't you?" Hermione asked quietly, although there was no danger of being overhead since Mr. Weasley was known to be able to sleep through an earthquake.

Ginny gaped at Hermione, completely taken aback by the older witch's astute observation, "What has that got to do with my question? Stop digressing."

Hermione shook her head, "It has everything to do with your question, Gin. That was what I was afraid of when you began to work on finding out Malfoy's whereabouts."

Seeing the befuddled expression on Ginny's face, "That you'd be obsessed with finding him, _with_ him. Getting to know more about him and locating him would take over your entire existence." Hermione explained patiently.

"But what's wrong with that?" Ginny asked, indignantly, "I'm an Auror. It's my job to track down Deatheaters like him and put them in Azkaban. In order to do so, I have to find out every single itsy bitsy detail about them, right down to the color of socks they usually wear."

"Tell me something, Ginny," Hermione began, her voice tinged with exasperation, "When you profile other deatheaters, are you able to put yourself in their head the way you are able to with Malfoy?"

Ginny felt her blood go cold at Hermione's words. The only reason she had been able to figure out that Malfoy was hiding in his own home was because she had imagined herself looking at the world in his eyes and she had been able to do that so effectively because of how much she knew about him, how much she thought about him.

Her lack of response and the pale pallor her face had taken on confirmed Hermione's fears.

"The thing you have to ask yourself is this," Hermione was solemn and completely serious, "Now that you know him _this intimately_, now that you are able to even _think_ like him, has his evil doings become more humanised to you? Are you able to accept him and his actions? If your answer is yes, then I'm afraid if you ever find him, you'll never be able to arrest him or kill him."

Before Ginny could rebut and tell Hermione that for once in her life she was talking complete bullocks and just because you could see from someone's perspective did not mean you were going to accept the person, Ron barged into the living room to announce that Mum was making hot cocoa with marshmallows for everyone as long as they helped to wake Dad up or else he would wind up getting a back ache from sleeping in the couch all night.

* * *

By the time Ginny got back to her apartment it was half past ten. She took down the apparition wards she usually put up around her flat, apparated inside and put up the wards. Having lived there for a couple of years now, she was not disorientated by the darkness and made her way from the hallway to the living room easily. 

She muttered the incantation to put the lights on in the living room. Nothing happened. Ginny tried again but darkness swirled around her. Deciding that some of the lighting charms must have misfired, Ginny muttered '_Lumos'_ and then wished she had not.

There on the couch she spent most of her time on, be it reading, sleeping or eating, sat Draco Malfoy.

Ginny gasped, the sound resonating in the still air of the living room, as she backed away from him, her wand held out, pointing right at him.

She did not think her heart had ever beaten this quick before. She felt sheer terror flood through her, making her knees weak, her hands tremble, and her entire body break out in cold sweat. She clenched her wand tightly, backing away towards the hallway and tried to calm herself down, to think rationally, to mentally list all possible means of escape and any possible way of taking Malfoy down.

All this while Malfoy sat on her couch, completely nonchalant and unperturbed by the bright light from the wand shining right into his face or the obvious effect he had on her. He sat there, with the typical demeanor of a British aristocrat oozing elegance and charm, looking as if he was right where he belonged even though he had broken into her house and had been sitting in the dark all this while waiting for her to come home, obviously with no good intentions in mind.

As Ginny calmed herself down, she found herself studying Malfoy – he looked a lot more mature and masculine than she remembered. His hair was cut short and neat, his complexion was as pale as ever but the boyish, weak face she had always known had become the face of a strong, handsome man with a firm jaw, sensuous cut lips and intense gray eyes. He was dressed like a man of great affluence and wealth as well, in fine rich robes, suede gloves and basilisk skin boots. He was not holding his wand in his hands, but he obviously had it tucked away in his robes, just in case.

Unable to stand the silence any longer and seeing no sign of him either moving or speaking, Ginny decided to speak first, now that she was safely standing in the threshold of the living room, a position that enabled her to make a run to the fireplace in the hallway if need be. Ginny knew it was foolish to hex him or even take him down without any backup. He had obviously come here well prepared and would be able to dodge her curses.

"What do you want?" She asked, her voice firm and strong, not giving away the pounding of her heart and the fear that she still tasted in her mouth.

Malfoy laughed, a bemused sardonic chuckle.

"What do you think?" He shot back.

"Look, Malfoy, stop playing games." Ginny snapped, her nerves frayed and at the end of their tether, "You either get out of here and leave me the hell alone or tell me what do you want and what you're doing in my apartment!"

Malfoy arched an eyebrow at her, "Fine, I'll leave then. Just thought you'd have a lot of questions to ask me."

Ginny stared daggers at him, "I don't wish to ask you anything so get out!"

Malfoy shrugged and stood up. He seemed so much more imposing with his tall, broad, well-built frame. He did not move closer to her but stood beside the couch.

"Just so you know, the reason why I know all that is going on in the Auror Headquarters is because," His voice dropped to just above a whisper at this point, "money buys power especially in high places."

Then with a swish of his cloak, he was gone and suddenly the lights came on in the living room.

Still clenching her wand in her fist, Ginny felt her knees give way as she sank to the ground, her entire body heaving with dry sobs of relief.

She was still shaking some twenty minutes later as a team of Aurors swamped her apartment, dusting for prints, checking her apparition wards and floo system for sabotage after she had managed to make a floo-call to Auror Headquarters to report the break-in.

Tonks, who was on duty tonight, taking over Kingsley's usual shift since she was his second-in-command and also because it was full moon – she always worked on full moon nights, as Remus did not like her being at home when he had his transformations - came and sat on the stool beside Ginny in the kitchen. She put her arm around the younger girl's shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

Ginny nodded even though her hands shook when she reached for her cup of tea and her face was so pale that her freckles stood out. "I'm fine." She lied.

"Ginny, its okay if you don't feel fine. We're Aurors. We're human beings, not superheroes." Tonks consoled her.

Ginny shook her head stubbornly, "You don't understand Tonks. I just let my fear blind me. I not only let him get away but I didn't get any valuable information from him."

Tonks snorted incredulously, "Like we could believe anything he said in the first place."

Ginny managed a small smile. "What about the comment he made alluding to his connections in the Ministry of Magic?"

"You told Dave right? He'll put it in the report and Kingsley can see it. We'll have to look into to it, I suppose, even though Malfoy most likely said it to get us going on a wild goose chase. Although how he knew about your theory regarding his possible residence in Malfoy Manor _is_ truly troubling." Tonks murmured, her brows furrowed in concern. Ginny had updated her about what had happened at the office in the afternoon.

Just then, Dave Powers, the Auror who was put in charge of combing Ginny's apartment walked in.

"We could not find a single trace of Malfoy's presence or any signs of breaking in – all the apparition wards are untouched and no sabotage could be found on the lighting systems." He reported.

"What'd you expect? He _was_ Voldermort's 'Stealth Man'." Tonks muttered, darkly.

"Maybe he used a portkey to get in." Dave suggested.

"In order to construct a portkey, he would have had to have access to this apartment." Ginny pointed out.

"He could have broken in before." Dave offered.

"How? Without Ginny knowing?" Tonks mused aloud.

"No," Ginny shook her head, a glazed look in her eyes, as she made herself think the way Malfoy thought, "He would have slipped in one day while I was at home, during the time I lifted the wards to let the grocery boy or someone else into the house till the time I put the wards back in place."

Ginny looked at the stunned look on Dave's face as well as the speculative glance Tonks was giving her, "What?" she asked, feeling uncomfortable under such scrutiny.

"That must be it then. That means he's been watching you for sometime." Tonks concluded.

Ginny shuddered at the idea.

"We'll have to put up an anti-portkey barrier around your apartment in case he tries to use the portkey again." Tonks stated.

Dave nodded and headed out of the kitchen to work on the anti-portkey barrier.

"With no signs of forced entry or that Malfoy was even here, is there going to be an official case?" Ginny asked, worriedly.

"The fact that he has been sighted should be sufficient ground to launch an investigation. Kingsley'll have to make the final call though." Tonks explained.

Ginny nodded.

"You'd better get some rest, Gin. I'll let Kingsley know that I gave you permission to come in late tomorrow." Tonks told her.

Ginny could hear the Aurors leaving via her fireplace. Dave came to let them know that the wards were up and the anti-portkey barrier was in place before leaving as well. Ginny bade Tonks good-bye with the promise that she was going to be heading straight to bed.

Ginny walked into her bedroom, stripped off her clothes and slipped into her pajamas. Completely exhausted to the bone, she tumbled into bed, without even brushing her teeth.

As she snuggled under the blankets, she noticed something on the bedside table. Pulling her wand out from under her pillow and lighting up the lampshade on her bedside table, she drew in a sharp breath at the sight of a single stalk of beautiful pristine white rose placed in a vase and a small note beside it which read: _For You..._

* * *

"It's a portkey." Danielle told her the next morning after analyzing the rose that Ginny had bagged the previous night. 

"To where?" Ginny raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Danielle gave her a baffled look as she levitated the rose back into the evidence plastic bag Ginny had brought it in, "Damned if I know. Only one way to find out – touch it and see where you end up."

Ginny shook her head at Danielle's forthrightness, something she was known for along with her excellent skills at analyzing any form of evidence that was brought in – be it handwriting samples, or fingerprints or even hair strands. She was able to use the most complicated charms to identify whom they belonged to and match samples with the highest rate of accuracy.

"I couldn't find any prints on it. Did you?" Ginny asked.

Danielle shook her head. "From a secret admirer?" She asked, handing the evidence bag back to Ginny.

"I wish." Ginny muttered. "One last thing – see if the handwriting on this note matches the one I gave you yesterday afternoon." Ginny handed her another evidence bag with the note she had found on her bedside table last night in it.

"I'll need some time for that. I still haven't managed to find out who wrote the note you gave me yesterday." Danielle took the plastic bag from her and read the words written on the note through the transparent plastic.

"Someone's got it hot and heavy for you." Danielle joked.

Ginny gave her a grim smile, "Like I said, I _wish_."

She did not want to give too much detail to Danielle regarding the Malfoy case. Even though Kingsley had officiated an investigation on Malfoy just that morning, he had given strict instructions to the Aurors assigned to the case to keep all details regarding the case tightly under wraps even from their other colleagues in the Auror Headquarters due to concerns on possible information leaks.

Also, Ginny had not submitted the rose and the note as evidence. It was just too personal and if Kingsley found out about that Malfoy was targeting her personally, he would remove her from the case, which was the last thing she wanted, now that they were so close to nabbing Malfoy. Already knowing that Malfoy had broken into _her_ house and left a note on _her_ office desk had made Kingsley reluctant to put her in charge of the case but Artie, Dave, Tonks and Tony who had been assigned the Malfoy case as well had insisted that Ginny should head the case since she had been the one who had been working on locating him all these years.

It was after her lunch break; shortly before the meeting she was going to have with the other Aurors regarding the Malfoy case, that Danielle dropped by her office with the results back. The handwriting on both notes was a match – no surprises there. However, Danielle had not managed to identify the writer of the notes. She had tried to find the closest match in the Auror database but had come up with nothing.

"But that's impossible," Ginny said, "We have signatures and written samples of every registered wizard in the database, including Deatheaters."

Since most of these Deatheaters were from high society and donated generously to Ministry of Magic to ensure their good standing in public, they would definitely register themselves and their children with the Ministry. Ginny knew this and found it especially puzzling that Danielle had not been able to find any samples of Malfoy's signature or handwriting in the database.

Danielle shrugged, seemingly just as confounded, "I know that but it seems like the person who wrote those notes is not registered in the system."

"Impossible." Ginny stated, resolutely.

She leaned towards Danielle who was sitting across the desk from her, lowering her voice to a whisper, "What I tell you now stays in this room, do you understand?" She asked sternly.

Danielle nodded, leaning forward expectantly.

"We suspect the person who wrote those notes is Malfoy." Ginny told her seriously. Danielle blinked in shock, running her fingers through her brown hair.

She looked as if she wanted to ask more questions but she was astute enough to know that it was most likely a classified case since Ginny had been so reluctant to divulge where she had gotten the notes from and would be even more hesitant to answer her numerous questions.

She nodded slowly with understanding, "So you want me to check if he's registered in the system?"

"Yes, that would be great." Ginny smiled, gratefully.

Danielle returned just as Ginny was about to leave her cubicle to head to Tonk's office for the meeting.

"So did you find anything?" Ginny asked, eagerly, her hands full with the files she had compiled on Malfoy.

"He's registered with the Ministry of Magic, alright," Danielle began, looking more than slightly miffed, "But he has no finger prints, no signature, no handwriting samples, no written documents filed with the Ministry. All I could find in his file was the list of War crimes and Deatheater activities he's wanted for by the Ministry of Magic. Nothing else. His entire file's been wiped clean making sure there's no way of identifying him _except_ by sight."

That was just the first impediment to the investigation on Malfoy. Over the next few days, Ginny and her team of Aurors working on the Malfoy case uncovered more obstacles in their path, preventing them from capturing Malfoy. The phrase '_so close yet so far_' had taken on a whole new meaning for them. Even Tonks and Artie had confessed that they had never come across any Deatheater so meticulous and conniving in covering his tracks.

The fact that Kingsley still had not gotten official clearance from the Minister of Magic (MOM) Office for a search warrant for the Malfoy Manor reinforced their suspicions that Malfoy had someone in the MOM office by the puppet strings, whether it was the Minster himself or not no one really knew since Kingsley was in the process of conducting a private investigation on the high officials in Ministry of Magic in an attempt to identify Malfoy's inside source. Ginny and Danielle's joint report regarding the lack of identification in Malfoy's files at the Ministry and in the Auror Database as well as Malfoy's statement had been a catalyst to Kinglsey launching that investigation without the knowledge of those higher up.

Nonetheless, with no search warrant, no possible means of identification and no tangible evidence that Malfoy was still alive even - save for Ginny having sighted him at her apartment – it was impossibly difficult for them to make any sort of progress on the Malfoy case.

Tired, fed up and convinced she had taken on a battle she could not possibly win, after another pointless meeting regarding the Malfoy investigations, Ginny found herself slumped in her chair at her office desk, looking at her Malfoy Wall of Fame, wondering if her mother had been right all along. At least if she had focused on having bit more of a social life, she would have a boyfriend or even a husband to go home to but now all she was left with was her career, which did not seem all that bright a prospect at the moment.

She sighed wearily, glanced at the clock on her desk – it was almost eleven p.m. She knew she would not be able to sleep so there was little point in heading home. She decided to organize her desk, tidy it up a bit.

She pulled open the topmost desk drawer and stopped short. She had completely forgotten about the white rose and the note she had received which was stashed in that drawer still in their respective evidence bags.

She had put it away and convinced herself that even though the rose was a portkey, there was no need to admit it as evidence and the let the rest of the team working on the Malfoy case know about it. Fear of being kicked off the case had compelled her to do so at first but as time went by, it seemed more and more inappropriate for her to wield the portkey in front of her colleagues faces, when they had spent days trying to compile evidence on Malfoy's whereabouts. If Kingsley or Tonks found out that she had a portkey that led them straight to Malfoy, it might even lead to her suspension as she had withheld crucial evidence. So she had stashed both the rose and the note away, pretending that she had never received them.

Now as she took the plastic bag containing the rose from the drawer, she wondered where the portkey would take her, if it would bring her to wherever Malfoy was. Why would he give her a portkey that brought her to him? Did he plan to kill her on sight? However, he had not even attempted to curse her the night he broke into her apartment? What if she had admitted the rose as evidence and an entire team of Aurors used it to get to him? Why was he so willing to take such a risk?

Ginny sighed. The more she studied Malfoy, she more questions she had about him. He was an enigma who completely eluded Ginny at the moment, she who prided herself on being able to put herself in other people's shoes and see the world from their eyes, she who seemed to have an uncanny ability to do it the best when it came to Malfoy.

She held the evidence bag in her hand, staring at the rose, contemplatively. She had nothing to lose really, now that she thought about it. If she took the portkey and it brought her to Malfoy, she could ask him all the questions that were plaguing her. He had seemed pretty damn obliging about answering questions the other night at her place. If the portkey led her into some sort of a trap, she was a well-trained Auror and could think well on her feet. Besides this time, she had the added advantage of being prepared for any possible situation she would face.

Her heart pounding in her chest, more from anticipation than fear, she slipped her hand into the plastic bag and touched the soft, gentle white petals of the rose. It happened instantly. She jerked irresistibly forwards, left the chair she was sitting on, the walls around her vanished as she sped forwards in a howl of wind and swirling colour, her finger stuck to the rose as though it was pulling her magnetically onwards and then-

Her feet hit the ground and the portkey fell on the floor near her feet. She quickly picked it up and slipped it into her pocket. Holding her wand out, she stared at her surroundings, taking in the wall-to-wall bookshelves, the crackling fire in the fireplace and a large ornate mahogany desk in the middle of the room.

"**_Welcome to the Malfoy Manor_**."

* * *

**A/N: Please let me know what you think….REVIEW**. 


	4. Part Three

**BOTH SIDES NOW**

_Disclaimer: Anything you see or recognize is not mine_

* * *

**Part Three**

"_**Welcome to the Malfoy Manor**_." From behind her, a drawling voice spoke.

Ginny spun around, holding her wand out, every reflex and nerve in her body charged and ready to dodge any curse or fire any one of her own.

There stood Malfoy, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed across his chest, his wand visibly sticking out of the pocket of his robes, his demeanor completely casual and blasé.

"I've been expecting you." He said, calmly strolling into the room, ignoring the fact that Ginny still had her wand directly pointed at him.

"I could have come with backup." Ginny pointed out matter-of-factly, standing in the middle of the room, watching Malfoy gracefully take his seat behind the ornate desk.

"I could have killed you on sight." Malfoy smirked, pulling out his wand and pointing it at her before placing it on the desk.

"Why didn't you then?" Ginny asked, still pointing her wand at him, completely mistrusting him.

"I didn't feel like it." Malfoy shrugged, still smirking.

Ginny resisted the urge to roll her eyes. If Malfoy were not the most wanted and most brutal Deatheater in Britain, she would actually find him rather amusing.

"Look, I didn't come here for chitchat. So let's get down to business-"

Malfoy cut her off, with his gray eyes dancing with mirth and his lips spread into a broad smirk, "My bedroom's just around the corner, Weasley." He gesticulated to the doorway.

Ginny glared at him, moving closer to the desk, her wand still pointing at him, "There was a time when the idea of sleeping with a witch like me made your skin crawl." She reminded him, coldly.

"Times change." Malfoy said, lightly.

"Not for me." Ginny shot back. "Why did you leave me a portkey to bring me here?" She asked.

"I wanted you to see that you were right." Malfoy said simply.

He rose from his chair; still standing on the other side of the table, with a sweeping gesture of his hands he brought her attention to the room. "This is the Malfoy library. It is three feet below the ground, as part of the extensive basement built beneath the Malfoy Manor. No one knows about its existence. This is where I've been living ever since The War."

Ginny looked around at the room, completely awestruck, not just by its enormity, but also by what Malfoy had said. The fact that this library was underground explained the lack of windows.

She was so bowled over by the fact that her suspicions of Malfoy living in his house all these years were confirmed and was so absorbed in studying her surroundings armed with this newly procured knowledge that she did not notice Malfoy walk around his desk and move towards her.

"Now you know how well you know me." He murmured, standing right behind her.

Ginny jumped a mile, the close proximity of his voice as well as his breath on her neck, taking her by surprise. She wheeled around to face him, her grip on her wand firm and unrelenting as she held it out, aimed at his chest, creating some distance between them.

She stared at him. His words rather than his nearness alarmed her. She tried not to show it, tried to remain as impassive as he looked, staring right back at her, those intense gray eyes boring right into her.

"I should go." She said, her chest fluttering with what she assumed to be panic.

Just as she was about to slip her hand into her pocket and touch the rose which would send her back to where she came from, he reached for her and grabbed her hand, his fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist and pulled her flushed against him. She struggled against his manacle grip, her wand poking right into his chest and just before she could open her mouth to shout out a curse or a hex, he leaned forward and kissed her.

Almost immediately, mustering all her strength she wrenched herself away from him, her lips still burning from his kiss. Completely astounded and outraged at what he had just done, she raised her wand and a jet of red light streaked at Malfoy, who turned and was gone in whirl of his robes, only to reappear behind Ginny.

Ginny was completely alert and ready - she spun around shooting a stream of silver light like arrows at him. Malfoy vanished again and reappeared near the desk.

"A fully trained Auror and that's all you're capable of?" He sneered at her.

"You don't seem to be doing much either." Ginny shot back, contemptuously.

Malfoy's face became a blank, cold mask, his gray eyes gleaming as if her words had hit a nerve within him.

He flicked his wand: the force of the spell that emanated from it was such that Ginny was forced to conjure a shining silver shield out of thin air to deflect it and even then she could feel her hair stand on end as it reverberated against the shield.

"You do not wish to kill me, Malfoy?" Ginny mocked him, "Above such brutality, are you?"

"There are so many other ways one can destroy a person." Malfoy murmured, his lips spread into a twisted smile.

"Is that why you kissed me?" She asked, sarcastically.

Malfoy smirked at her, "That was motivated by impulse."

Ginny frowned at him, her wand still pointing at him, while he chose to lean against the table, his wand pointing at the floor. The idea that Malfoy kissed her because he _wanted_ to was hard to swallow.

"I don't believe you." She told him, honestly.

Malfoy shrugged, "I didn't think you would. What if I told you that I am willing to provide the answers to most of your questions? Would you trust me a bit more then?" He asked her. He looked almost earnest as he watched her, waiting for her answer.

Ginny did not know what to think or say anymore. Things were happening too fast for her to comprehend. First she had found out she was right about Malfoy's location, then he had kissed her, then they had dueled and now he was offering her a chance to have all her questions about him, that had been plaguing her the past few years, answered. It was all too much to take in.

"I'd be willing to give it a try." She said hesitantly. The way Ginny saw it, in order to find the answers she was looking for, she had to be open to all possibilities.

Malfoy nodded, somberly. "Fine. Come by for dinner tomorrow. It will be served at seven so don't be late." He stated and walked out of the room, ignoring Ginny who was still standing there gaping at him, completely staggered by the notion of Malfoy inviting her for dinner.

* * *

The next day morning, while escorting some Unspeakables to Gringotts, – what their business was she or Tony, her Auror partner, did not know and were not supposed to know - she considered taking herself off the Malfoy case. However, due to a lack of excuse for doing so other than submitting the rose as evidence and confessing to withholding it all this while which would lead to her suspension, she decided otherwise. She did not just love her job, she lived it – it was all she had and she could not afford to lose it. 

After all, it was not as if the Malfoy case was going anywhere. A brief discussion with Artie during lunch break proved her point that they were not making any headway on the case.

She had a very grumpy Mad-Eye Moody waiting for her in her office when she got back from her lunch break. She was not surprised by his visit. As consultant to the Auror Department, he dropped by frequently and most of them time he came by her office so that she could fill him in on the latest about her hunt for Malfoy.

He was sitting in the chair by her desk, tapping his staff impatiently on the floor, glaring at the Malfoy Wall of Fame with his magical eye. His long grizzled hair had turned pure white with age but his mind was as agile as ever.

"What's with the tightened the security around here?" He growled, referring to the security check Kingsley, as head of Auror Office, had set up at the entrance of the Magical Law Enforcement Department to ensure no unidentified wizard or witch could get into the Auror Headquarters.

"I thought you of all people would like it." Ginny said, biting back a grin.

"Don't be smart with me, young lady." Moody said, turning his normal eye on Ginny as she sat down behind her desk. "Some Auror tried to stick a probity probe up my arse. I cursed him on the spot of course." Moody said matter-of-factly.

Ginny snorted in amusement. Moody glared at her with his magical eye before it swiveled back to continue glaring at the Malfoy Wall of Fame.

"So how goes the search for Malfoy?" He asked.

Ginny shrugged, "Not very well, I'm afraid."

"Kingsley told me that you're conducting official investigations on him. That should help you to get to him." Moody took a swig from his hip flask.

"Kingsley didn't tell you how it's five days since Malfoy was sighted and we still haven't got a search warrant, has he?" Ginny asked.

Moody nodded, "He mentioned something about the MOM office not being very cooperative regarding the investigations on Malfoy but he said to come to you for the details."

Ginny filled him in on her theory regarding Malfoy's possible whereabouts, Malfoy breaking into her flat, all the obstacles that they were facing regarding the Malfoy case, obviously leaving out the _tiny_ detail that she would be dining with Malfoy himself tonight.

Moody shook his head, his magical eye spinning in all directions, his scarred pitted face contorted in irritation.

"I know it's tough, Weasley, but you **_must_** _not_ give up! You have to put Malfoy behind bars in Azaban. That's where he belongs, more so than his father." Moody growled.

He was not done. He fixed both his eyes on Ginny, leaning forward so that he had her full attention, "If left uncaptured, Malfoy has the _power_ and the _brilliance_ to become the next **_Dark Lord_**, an _even_ **_more _**destructive one than Voldermort at that!" He growled fiercely, banging his staff on the floor at the end for emphasis.

Ginny stared at Moody incredulously. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"**_You_** should not be saying that! After _all_ these years of learning all there is to know about him, _you_ should know what he's capable of!" Moody roared before bursting into a coughing fit.

Ginny offered him water, which he customarily refused, taking a gulp from his hip flask. She attempted to placate the old wizard by agreeing with him and promising to never give up the hunt for Malfoy, even though she privately thought that he was becoming even more paranoid in his old age, most likely a symptom of senility.

Ginny had a second visitor that afternoon, shortly after Moody left. It was Harry, having just wrapped up quiddtich practice and been given instructions by her mother to drop by Ginny's office and invite her for dinner at The Burrow tonight.

"What's the occasion?" Ginny asked as he stood in front of the Malfoy Wall of Fame, glancing at the articles she had pinned up.

Harry turned to her, "Nothing really. Ron and Hermione'll be there and so will I-"

Ginny cut him off with a knowing look, "So that's the occasion – _you'll_ be there."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, embarrassedly.

"Can't you tell my mother that we're over, Harry? Maybe if she heard it from you, she'd believe it." Ginny pleaded with him.

"Are you kidding? She might never invite me for dinner ever again." He looked mortified.

Ginny rolled her eyes, frustrated.

"Anyway, she's tried hooking you up with _other_ guys as well so the only reason why she's still harping on me, for you, is because I'm single." Harry pointed out, logically.

"Get a girlfriend, get married, do something then!" Ginny commanded.

Harry stared at her, a bit taken back, "Right. So are you coming to The Burrow tonight, then?" He asked, deciding to change the topic to a safer one.

Ginny shook her head, "I've got an assignment tonight." The lie tasted bitter in her mouth, especially since she was lying to Harry who had been her lover and had always been her good friend.

Biding her farewell and wishing her luck on finding Malfoy, he left.

* * *

For the first time in a long time, Ginny was concerned with how she looked. As she stood in front of the mirror, before stepping into the shower, she wished she were prettier. She had never been bothered with her appearance or thought of it as inadequate – all the boys and men she had dated had seemed satisfied with it but none of them were…well, none of them were Malfoy. 

Frowning at the disturbing idea of being bothered about what Malfoy thought about her looks, Ginny stepped into the shower, letting the warm water beat down on her, calming her anxious nerves.

It was the kiss, which was insubstantial itself, but it had changed the way she saw Malfoy. Now he was more a _man_ than a deatheater she had to capture.

She was still feeling out-of-sorts when she got to Malfoy Manor using the portkey. She stood in the Malfoy library, taking in the vast expansiveness of it and wishing momentarily that she could get a chance to browse through the enormous collection of books. Then she thought about how Hermione would have a fit if she saw this many books in one place and smiled to herself.

She walked around the huge table and looked closely at the painting hanging on the wall behind it. It was a simple yet beautiful painting of a girl in rich fur lined yellow robes, writing but her face was averted away from the desk, and she smiled, a soft guarded smile at Ginny, before returning to her writing.

"It's a seventeenth century Vermeer – he was a Dutch artist."

Ginny did not turn around, simply continuing to study the impressive painting, the way the colors stood out, fingering her wand in beneath her emerald green dress robes, just in case, as she heard Malfoy approach her.

"I like it." Ginny murmured, appreciatively. She turned around to face Malfoy. He looked as refined and as elegant as ever, in black robes with the white lapels of his shirt beneath sticking out rather fashionably above his robes. His smooth, pale, arrogant face was unreadable as he stared at her.

"He painted some of my ancestors. Let me show you." He held his arm out, expecting her to slip her arm through his, which she found herself doing. She was a guest after all. It was not in her place to fault his customs.

He led her out of the library down the hallway, stopping to point out which painting was done by which famous artist. They lined the walls of the hallway, all were portraits of his paternal ancestors – most of them were pale, blonde and gray eyed and frowned down at her in an intimidating fashion.

Then he led her to the dining room, which was one of immaculate grandeur and great opulence – a long table was in the middle of the room with a huge crystal chandelier consisting of a hundred lit candles hung above it. Paintings adorned the walls of the room. The table, which was spread with rich satin shawls and abutted with matching cushioned seats, was set for two.

A ghost butler, whom Malfoy introduced as Niles, directed them to their seats. Malfoy sat at the head of the table while she sat beside him. Ginny had never felt so nervous and out of place in such ostentatious and sophisticated settings; even the napkins had the Malfoy insignia – an 'M' in bold italic with a serpent entwined around it – scrolled in gold leaf.

If Malfoy noticed her edginess, he did not make any comment as Niles brought in the first course – San Daniele ham and quail egg topped with _foie gras_ pate. He placed the dishes in front of them and left the room.

"You shouldtry thewine." He told her, as soon as they were alone.

Ginny did, not just because he said so but to calm herself. Before doing so though, she checked to make sure her mind was blocked as she was taught during the Occlumency modules all Aurors were made to go through as part of their training, since she knew Malfoy had to be a rather good Legilimens.

"It's good." She said, after taking a sip.

He nodded, then grew serious, "I know you have a lot of questions but before we go into that, I'd like to put down a few rules. Just for tonight, I want you to call me Draco."

Ginny was taken aback by his condition. It was so understated. She nodded, agreeably, "And you'll address me as?" She asked, curious.

"Ginevra." He murmured, staring at her, his gray eyes resembling a lake she could drown in if she was not careful. She looked down at her crystal plate, averting his gaze.

"Second rule: There are some questions I will not be able to answer so don't try and coax it out of me. As for the questions I _can_ answer, I will do so honestly." He promised, looking her straight in the eye, unblinking.

"Fine, then." She muttered, seeing no choice, having come this far.

"You live here alone?" She asked.

He flashed her a smirk, "Easy questions first, eh? Yeah, it's just me, Niles and the house elves."

"How about Parkinson, Goyle and Flint?"

He stopped eating and stared at her, one ends of his lips turned up in what looked to be the beginnings of a smile, "You _are_ as bright as they say you are. I never thought you'd figure that one out."

Ginny tried to fight the blush that threatened to rise up her face, "It's pretty obvious really that you had a hand in their cases." She said modestly.

"Well, you did get Flint wrong. I wouldn't care whether that bastard – pardon my French – died or lived. He was a worthless Deatheater, more interested in killing than anything else. He is a completely aggressive, violent brute who rarely used his brain. A bit like Aunt Bella, I suppose, all out for blood." Draco stated. There was no bitterness, or maliciousness in his voice or in his face. He was being completely matter-of-fact in his contemptuousness about his fellow deatheaters.

"Then how about Parkinson and Goyle?"

"There were friends so I helped them. Besides, they might prove useful in time. They're not in Britain. That's all I can tell you. Goyle stayed here, in the Malfoy Manor, for bit before I made arrangements for him to leave the country. Pansy was overseas all this while. I refused to let her stay here – as far as Pansy's concerned an invitation to reside in this house, would be an invitation into my bed and I had no interest for that." He said bemusedly. Ginny bit back a grin.

"So when she ran out of money, she was too embarrassed to come to me and you know the rest of the story. She wanted to stay in Britain, probably worm her way in here but the investigations launched to look for her was the perfect excuse for me to get her out of the country."

As Ginny watched him eloquently articulate his thoughts, and pick at his food with all the grace of a well brought up member of nobility, she realized he was like no other man she had ever known. He was definitely intelligent and extremely cultured and knowledgeable. He seemed rather practical and pragmatic, very controlled, with no room for weakness or emotional outbursts. Everything he did was calculated and planned.

How then did dinner with an Auror who was tracking him down and in charge of his case fit into his plan? But Ginny did not ask him that, not just yet.

"So can you tell me who is your inside source at the Ministry?"

Draco paused, dabbing his mouth with the napkin. "I'm afraid I can't answer that question. All I can tell you is that I have a few sources at the Ministry. They are scattered all over the Ministry, not concentrated in positions of power only."

Ginny bit her lips, disappointed and even disheartened by the possibility of Draco having more than one inside source. "I suppose you bought them over with money."

"What else?" Draco smirked.

"Aren't you afraid they'll be found out?"

"No." Malfoy stated resolutely, almost arrogantly.

"Why didn't you leave the country as well?" She asked, as their dishes disappeared after they were done and Niles served their second course – seafood bisque.

Once Niles left the room and Draco motioned for Ginny to start eating while he did the same, he began to speak.

"This is my home, my house, my land. All my memories, my ancestors' blood and sweat and magic are here, my life is here. I have traveled now and then during the past few years, in disguise of course, but my home base is here. I know my way around here the best, know the people well, and am relatively safe for the time being." He said, confidently.

"What are your future plans?"

"Nothing tangible at the moment. I'm living life day by day." Somehow Ginny did not believe he was being honest then. A man like him would not be content with living life day to day. There had to be a plan, an end result, something to occupy him, something to motivate him.

"Do you still consider yourself a Deatheater?" She asked him, seriously.

He pondered the question for a while, "No, not really, not anymore."

"Why not?"

"I never liked the fanaticism associated with it."

"Did you believe in the cause? That purebloods are the best?"

"Of course." He answered without hesitation.

"It sounds rather irrational to me."

Draco shook his head, "It's what I was raised to believe and I still believe in it. If we keep inter-marrying and intermingling with mudbloods, we'll be extinct – that's one thing. Another thing is that at the end of the day purebloods are the ones who are most magically predisposed." He said calmly.

Ginny tried to ignore the fact that he had used the word 'mudblood' and rebutted him civilly, "You know that's rubbish, Draco. I know Muggles who are even more clever than any other wizard."

The use of his first name seemed to soften him a bit, as the argument was getting a bit controversial and heated, because he simply shrugged and said rather diplomatically, "You have your beliefs, I have mine."

"Besides, Voldermort was a half-blood and so was Snape." Ginny pointed out, unable to resist the urge to stand up for her viewpoint.

"Maybe that's why they're dead today." He shot back.

Sensing that this argument was getting nowhere, Ginny suggested, "Let's just agree to disagree."

"That's what I said." Draco smirked.

The conversation shifted to more 'serious' issues like quidditch. Since Draco did not get out much, he liked to receive news about what was going on in the outside world from the people who visited him. He seemed to know quite a bit about the progress of certain quidditch teams in the English Quidditch Premier League so Ginny assumed that he had quite a few regular visitors. They had a vigorous discussion about which team was going to win the cup this year as the main course was served – veal schnitzel which was lightly breaded with cranberry cherry sauce and sautéed potatoes.

Then there was a lull in the conversation before Ginny spoke up.

"So basically you've been tracking the progress I was making on my hunt for you, all these years?"

Draco nodded, "Ever since I found out you had taken me on as some sort of special project, I kept an eye on you."

"How did you find out? Your inside sources?"

To Ginny's surprise, Draco shook his head in disagreement, "I didn't have feelers in the Ministry of Magic then. I didn't really see the need. People were still preoccupied with rebuilding, restoring and maintaining peace after the war and I had been presumed dead after all."

"Then one evening, I went up – sometimes I go up to the main part of the house, the part above ground to just walk around and check on the place – well, I saw you, standing outside the gates. I didn't recognize you at first but it was still bright, the sun was still up so I could see you properly…Let's just say the red hair gave you away."

Ginny took a sip of the wine, feeling slight more relaxed as she listened to him talk and as she enjoyed the fine cuisine.

"That's when I started sourcing around for people who could get information for me regarding what was going on in the Ministry and in the outside world. Goyle helped quite a bit to get me trustable contacts who would give me information for my money. In that way I kept tabs on you and the progress you were making. One of my contacts left that note on your desk."

"Why the note? The portkey? The breaking into my flat?" Ginny asked, perplexed. He could not have done it in panic caused by finding out that she knew where he lived since he had the means to stall the advancement of the case.

Draco shrugged, "I'm not really sure." Then he paused, looked her in the eye, with a ghost of smile flickering across his lips, "I found you rather intriguing. Maybe that's why."

Ginny smiled, amusedly. If she were not careful, she could actually allow herself to be completely taken withhim. She wished she could go somewhere far away from Draco Malfoy, just so that she could stop the mad fluttering sensation in her chest she felt when she looked at him.

"So you invited me to dinner because I'm intriguing?"

"It does get pretty boring and lonely down here so I thought you'd make an interesting dinner companion." Draco acknowledged.

"Not to make me one of your inside sources at the Ministry?" Ginny asked, warily.

Draco gave an incredulous look coupled with an amused smirk, "With _you_? A moralistic Gryffindor Auror? I would _never_ be able to pull that off." The contempt in his voice was evident and it irritated Ginny.

"I don't see anything wrong with being a moralistic Gryffindor Auror? It's much better than being a cold blooded Slytherin Deatheater." She spat out.

Draco stared at her intently, making her feel extremely vulnerable and slightly embarrassed about having such an emotional outburst of annoyance in front of a completely composed Draco Malfoy.

"You should not wear your heart on your sleeve all the time, Ginevra. You will get hurt easily." He told her, a certain gravity in his words.

Ginny did not know what to say to that. They finished their meal in a comfortable silence before adjoining to the drawing room for desert and drinks.

The drawing room was done in the usual grandiose manner, as was expected for any room in the Malfoy Manor, with paintings adorning the walls, sculptures on the shelves, an opulent sofa set surrounding a coffee table and a lavishly ornate fireplace with a warm fire crackling in it as it did get pretty chilly down here, since it was underground.

From what Ginny had observed, the Malfoy Manor did not seem as gloomy and repressive as 12 Grimmauld Place had been before Harry moved in and did it up. There were no elf heads hung on the walls, no tables with troll legs supporting them. Malfoy Manor seemed rather tastefully done up even though it was the home of generations of the darkest of wizards.

Ginny sat on the velvet couch while Draco made himself comfortable on a matching velvet armchair across the coffee table from her. He sat in the armchair like he owned every inch of it, one leg draped over the arm, exuding casual classiness that was solely his.

Ginny crossed her legs, aware of Draco's scrutinizing gaze on her, taking in her hair that she had let loose, its waves framing her face, her two pearl drop earrings and the chiffon emerald dress robes she was wearing.

Pince appeared then with desert – cheese dumplings with an apricot filling with stewed fruit and cinnamon.

While Draco helped him to more elf-wine, Ginny conjured up a mug of hot cocoa for herself.

"Can I see it?" She asked, suddenly. He looked at her and then seemed to know what exactly she was referring to.

"I'm sure you've seen it countless times." He told her.

She shrugged, sipping her hot cocoa, "Yes, I have but…." She trailed off when what she really wanted to say was _I have not seen it on you_.

He seemed to understand because he rose from his seat, came and sat beside her on the couch. This close to him, she could smell his aftershave, his musky masculine odor and knew she would remember this unique scent for a long time.

He undid his cuffs and rolled up his shirtsleeves and there on his left forearm was the Dark Mark. She stared at it, the dark mark contrasting against his pale skin.

"I think it's stupid." Draco muttered, harshly.

Ginny looked up at him, startled. "What do you mean?"

"By branding his followers just to ensure that they return to him every time he called them indicated that Voldermort was aware that their loyalty to him was precarious at best. Unlike Dumbledore, who could make _even me_, think twice about killing him."

"So you think Dumbledore is better than Voldermort?" Ginny asked, interested.

"No, they both have their strengths and weaknesses." He commented judiciously.

"If you didn't like Voldermort and the way his Deatheaters operated, why did you stay a Deatheater?" Ginny asked.

"I believe in his cause." Draco answered, simply.

Ginny nodded; feeling unexpectedly dejected about the gaping chasm between their ideals.

She glanced down at the Dark mark on his forearm and almost as if she was magnetized to it, as if she could not help it, she found her hand moving towards his arm and her fingers touching the mark gingerly. She heard him draw in his breath sharply as she traced the imprint of the mark on his skin with her fingertip.

She felt his hot breath in her ear as he murmured, huskily, "Would you hex me, this time, if I kissed you?"

She looked up at him, startled by his question and how close his face was to hers – she could see the pale hairs above his upper lip, she could see the barely visible scars on his face and neck, probably from The War.

She thought about all the people he had killed, some of them whom she knew and cared about – Colin Creevy, Susan Bones and so many more. She thought about how he had kicked Harry in the face and left him to lie, defenseless, in the Hogwarts Express during his sixth year. She thought about all his insults, his mean ploys against her brother, Harry, Hermione and even herself.

She thought about all that and she saw him for the man he was – the blood in his hands, the darkness that swirled about him, the heart that might be made of stone, the forearm branded by an evil wizard – and she knew with sudden, crystal clear, clarity that she wanted him.

"I think I can try to keep my hands off my wand." She murmured, smiling coyly up at him.

He smirked, bending his head towards hers, so she could feel his breath against her lips, right before his lips touched hers. For someone reputed to be brutal and cold to the core, the kiss he bestowed on her was anything but that.It was soft, slow and filled with tremendous tenderness. Ginny never would have thought a man like him could kiss her like that.

When he kissed her she thought about a lamb lying beside a lion, peacefully. When he touched her, his touch like petals raining on her skin, she saw an oasis in the middle of a desert, green and fresh. When he entwined his fingers into her hair, running his fingertips against her fiery strands of hair, she imagined a dozen white doves taking off into the air, the fluttering of their wings like her heart in her chest.

As he broke away from her, his lips leaving hers, she let out an involuntary sigh of longing. Draco did not smirk at her, as she had expected him to. Instead he stared at her, the expression on his face indecipherable save for his grey eyes that had become pools of mercury.

"I think you should go." He said, quietly.

Ginny wondered why he was pushing her away all of a sudden, after sharing so much about himself with her, after kissing her in such a heartfelt manner.

Instead, she said, "I think that's a good idea." She stood up, abruptly.

He rose as well. "Goodnight." He murmured, before leaning down to plant the gentlest of kisses on her cheek, almost like a wisp of a breeze.

She smiled at him, a hesitant smile filled with uncertainty, before slipping her hand into her pocket and touching the petals of the rose.

**_TBC_**

* * *

**A/N: PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK..THANK YOU.**


	5. Part Four

**BOTH SIDES NOW**

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is not mine..._

* * *

Ginny realized how long she had spent at Malfoy Manor when she got back home – it was close to eleven. 

Still restless and confused, Ginny decided to go to the only place she knew she would be welcome at this hour – Ron and Hermione's home, off Hogsmead Village.

She changed into her usual cotton robes, slipped on her cloak and apparated to the edge of Hogsmead Village. Pulling her collar up to shield her face from the chilly night air, she took the winding lane that led out into the wild countryside around Hogsmead.

As she walked beneath the ceiling of stars, she took a deep breath of the refreshing country air, hoping that it would help clear her mind. After what had happened tonight, Ginny believed anything was possible. She might take a single step and find there are constellations swirling beneath her feet. She might walk up the path to the cottage right at the end of the lane with the large garden and fall headlong into ether.

She knocked on the door and waited patiently. It was Ron who opened the door, clad in pants and a sweatshirt, indicating that he had not retired to bed yet.

"Hullo! This is a surprise!" Ron grinned at her, reaching out to give her a hearty embrace before inviting her in. The cottage was just nice for a couple – with a well-furnished living room, dining room, kitchen and two bedrooms.

"'Mione, guess who's here?" Ron called out as he took Ginny's cloak and hung it up.

Hermione came out of the kitchen, her face breaking into a warm smile at the sight of Ginny, "Hey! To what do we owe this pleasure?" She asked as she came forward to hug her, since Ginny rarely had time to visit them at their home.

Ginny shrugged, "Well, tomorrow's Saturday so I figured I'd go into work late, take a break tonight."

"Finally you realized all work and no play makes Jane a dull girl." Ron joked.

"We were just making some waffles for a late night snack. You want some?" Hermione asked, leading the way into the kitchen.

Ginny nodded, feeling ravenous all of a sudden despite the four-course dinner she had earlier.

She made herself comfortable on the bar stool at the kitchen counter, beside Ron, as Hermione made the waffles at the stove the muggle way. She preferred cooking without magic and Ron had given up trying to convince her otherwise.

"You had an assignment tonight?" Ron asked her.

Ginny blinked, and then remembered the excuse she had given Harry and nodded.

"Well, just so you know, Mum's a bit peeved you didn't come for dinner tonight, especially after Harry told her you had work."

Ginny sighed wearily, "Mum's _always_ peeved at me, Ron."

"That's because she wants you to spend less time working. She just wants you to be happy." Hermione said benignly.

"Happily married, more like it." Ginny muttered, darkly.

Ron and Hermione laughed.

"So how's work? How's the search for Malfoy?" Ron asked.

He had been intensely proud of her when she first revealed to him that she was planning to track down Malfoy and put him in Azaban, back when she was starting out as an Auror. He hated Malfoy to the bone, unlike Harry who actually felt a tad sorry for him.

As far as Ron was concerned, Malfoy may have been forced into being a Deatheater by circumstances but he was a Dark Wizard by blood and nothing could change that. His cold-blooded killings and elevated position in Voldermort's ring of Deatheaters had confirmed Ron's suspicions about him.

Thankfully Hermione was more preoccupied with dishing out the waffles into their plates when Ron asked her that question. Ginny averted his gaze, simply shrugging, "It's been some time since we made any great progress."

"Does that mean you're giving it up?" Ron asked, perturbed. Hermione placed their waffle-laden plates in front of them with a jug of maple syrup, sliding onto the stool opposite them.

"I'm not sure, really. Maybe." Ginny said, non-committal.

Hermione spoke up, "You said you'd never give up till you hunt Malfoy down. What changed your mind?"

Ginny wished Hermione were not so perceptive or so probing. "There are more important things in life, I guess."

Ron seemed disappointed with the notion of Ginny giving up the Malfoy case. "You're the only one who can do it, Gin."

_No_, Ginny thought, _I'm the only one who bothered to look for him when everyone else thought it was impossible._

* * *

_Do you think I made a mistake using the portkey to go and see Draco, then having dinner with him and letting him kiss me? _Ginny wanted to ask Hermione, later when they had retreated to the window seat in the living room while Ron washed the dishes in the kitchen. 

This was her best friend, practically her 'sister', the woman who knew her fears better than she did. Ginny wished she could tell her all that had happened with Draco but she knew she could not. It was her secret, one she had to hide beneath her skin where it burnt.

"A Galleon for your thoughts." Hermione said, breaking into her reverie.

Ginny sighed and then turned to look at her, her lips twisted in a wistful smile, "Just thinking about some of the choices I've made in life and wondering if they're the right ones."

Hermione did not press her for details. "It's too late for regrets, isn't it? Anyway, every thing happens for a reason." She murmured, sagely.

The curtains of the living room window moved in the night breeze, brushing against her face, reminding Ginny of the way Draco's lips felt against her own. As she leaned her elbows on the windowsill and breathed in the sweet scent of the honeysuckle growing beneath, she thought about how Draco spent all that time living underground, without any windows.

Ginny had been so sure of her life – you wake up, you make coffee, you go to work, you go on missions, stake-outs and raids, you investigate, you gather information, fill in reports, go for briefings, but no matter what, the Deatheaters you hunt are evil and hated, the people you love are good and kind, no questions asked.

Now she felt as if the rational world had spun so completely out of orbit that there was no way to chart or expect what might happen next.

As she watched Ron walk into the room, come over and kiss his wife before settling into the couch a few feet away, she wished she had Hermione's assured manner. She wished she knew what was meant to be and what was not. She wished she was not so torn apart by doubt.

* * *

She wound up spending the night at their place and after a rather good breakfast courtesy of Ron, she left, apparating back to her apartment to shower and change before using the floo-system to get to work. 

The Auror headquarters were relatively slow and empty over the weekend but Kingsley could be found in his office as usual.

She walked in and stood in front of his desk, fidgeting nervously till he focused his attention on her.

"What is it, Ginny?" He asked, patiently.

"I want to be taken off the Malfoy case." She blurted out.

Kingsley stared at her, almost as if he did not recognize her.

"What!"

"I said-"

"I know what you said! But _why_?" Kingsley asked, genuinely perplexed.

"I'm too emotionally vested in it." She explained, hoping he would accept that as reason enough.

Kingsley frowned at her, "I hope it's not because you're not making much headway in the investigations. I've never known you to be a quitter."

She shook her head vigorously, "Really, it's not that. It's just that years of finding out about Dr-Malfoy, studying him, looking for him have made me too emotionally involved. It might affect the case."

Kingsley considered her for a minute before speaking, " I think that's a risk I can afford to take. You will remain in charge of the Malfoy Investigations. You're one of our most highly trained Aurors, Ginny, and you know Malfoy inside out." He said, decisively.

Ginny's shoulders sagged in defeat, "But-"

He cut her off firmly, "That's an order."

Ginny knew better than to disobey him. She made her way out of the office, seeing no way out of this situation other than staying away from Draco and focusing on the investigations.

The first thing Ginny did was burn the rose and the incriminating note that had come with it.

The second thing she did, when everyone got back to work on Monday, was to call for a meeting on the Malfoy investigations in Tonk's office – hers was the only office large enough to contain all of them.

The moment all members of the team were present, Artie announced that he had been thinking over the weekend and had come up with a plan of sorts.

Logically speaking, Malfoy could not have survived all these years without money. He could have kept a handsome amount in the Malfoy Manor with him but he would still need to access the family fortune at Gringotts now and then. (The team was working on the assumption that Malfoy was had been hiding all this while in the Malfoy Manor. Also, there was no way Ginny could confirm it without divulging _how_ she knew for a fact that Draco had been hiding all this while in the Malfoy Manor.) Since he could not possibly do it himself or use house elves, he would have to turn to someone working in Gringotts itself, someone who could retrieve money for him…

"And pass it to him at the Malfoy Manor." Ginny completed, as she exchanged a triumphant look with Artie, who nodded excitedly.

"Ingenious, Artie, but how are we going to find out who Malfoys's connection at Gringotts is?" Tony asked.

"Security tapes." Tonks answered, smugly.

Dave nodded, "Yes, each vault at Gringotts has a camera watching it at all times. They installed this during The War."

"We'll need a warrant for the security tapes though." Ginny pointed out.

"No," Artie shook his head, "You can go to the goblins directly. For them, a letter from the Minister himself wouldn't make a difference. In _their_ bank, _they_ make the decisions." He said knowledgeably, having had first hand experience of obtaining security tapes from the goblins for the Parkinson case.

"I'm on it then." Dave volunteered.

"I'll go with you." Tony offered.

They were back in Tonk's office two hours later, after Dave and Tony had managed to sweet talk the goblins into passing them the tapes of the security camera located at the Malfoy vault. Danielle was with them this time, her equipment laid out all over Tonk's table as she looked through the tapes.

"Ah! I've got something!" She cried out, suddenly, after some time. The rest of them who had been sitting around waiting, jumped up to crowd around her. She showed them images of a middle aged bald bespectacled man opening the Malfoy vault and stepping inside, then stepping out of it with a heavy pouch, obviously filled with galleons, that he slipped into his cloak pocket before locking the vault and leaving.

"But look at this." Danielle showed them another set of images from a tape of a different. This time a scrawny, bearded man was opening the Malfoy vault and retrieving money from it.

"They're a different person every time." She said, having scanned through all the tapes.

"Why don't you run a polyjuice potion wipeout on their images to see if it's the same man underneath?" Tonks suggested, incisively.

"That'll take a day or two." Danielle told them. Disgruntled groans met her statement.

After Tony, the poster boy of the Auror department with his tall, dark, handsome looks, promised to take her to the Ministry Ball the upcoming weekend if she got the results by tomorrow, Danielle agreed to work through the night and get the tests done pronto.

Ginny, Dave and Tonks were still laughing and talking about it when they parted ways and she stepped inside her office.

Ginny's jovial mood completely vanished, however, when she got back to her office. There lying on her desk was a note with Draco's customary handwriting on it. It was the first time she had heard from him since their dinner together, last Friday. With great heaviness in the pit of her stomach, she picked up the piece of parchment and read it.

_Ginerva,_

_It would be my great pleasure if you could join me for supper tonight at the Malfoy Manor._

_Draco_

Ginny did not hesitate. Before she could lose the will to do so and give into the ruinous, desirous thoughts running in the back of her mind, with a flick of her wand, she burnt the note. As she watched it fall onto the desk in ashes, she wondered why it felt as if it was her _heart_ that was being burnt to its last vestiges rather than a bit of parchment.

* * *

The rest of the week did not get any better. The next day Danielle came by with the test results and seemed terribly mystified by it. She had found no trace of anyone beneath those different men – meaning all those men who had accessed the Malfoy vault over the past few months were who they were. To add to the mystery, when she ran a check of those men against the Gringotts Employers database and Ministry of Magic database, she could not find a match for anyone of them. 

Ginny had suggested maybe those various men were Muggles under the Imperius Curse. She had put forward the possibility that Malfoy had a contact working in Gringotts who would put a Muggle under the Imperius curse, direct him to the Malfoy Vault, which the contact would have access to, where the Muggle would retrieve the money and pass it to the contact who would bring it to Malfoy at the Malfoy Manor. In this way, Malfoy ensured that his contact at Gringotts could not be incriminated.

A plan to put the Malfoy vault at Gringotts on twenty-four hour surveillance with two trusted Aurors stationed there was put on hold due to some reluctance on the Goblins' part to cooperate. This caused further speculation in the team whether Malfoy had one of the Goblins working for him.

In the middle of the week, Kingsley had come to them with news that their application for a search warrant had been rejected by the Minister of Magic due to a shortage of credible evidence – Ginny's eyewitness account of her encounter with Malfoy when he had broken into her flat was the only evidence. This had outraged the entire team and they had filed an appeal with the Wizengamot, which would be heard by them next week.

All in all it had been another unproductive week on the Malfoy case and Ginny was more than willing to completely forget about it and have fun during the Ministry Ball, which was mandatory for all Aurors to attend.

She had quite a good time, even though she had gone stag, - drinking, eating, sharing a laugh with Dave when they caught Tony snogging Danielle behind the stage, cold shouldering her brother Percy whom she still did not trust even though he had reconciled with the family, dancing a few times with Tony and Dave, chatting with Remus and Tonks, teasing Dave about his date Tiffany, a dumb brunette, who still did not understand what an Auror was.

By the time she apparated to outside her flat, she was in higher spirits than she had been all week. She was slightly tipsy though; she swayed a bit as she was walking up the stairs to her flat.

"Watch your step." Someone murmured behind her when she was midway up the flight of stairs.

Ginny turned, noticing a dark silhouette at the bottom of the stairs, then a cloud moved in the sky and the crescent moon shone down on the path, illuminating the figure that was Draco Malfoy.

Ginny stumbled backwards in shock and reached out for the railing to steady herself, before pulling her wand out, pointing it at him.

He chuckled softly, walking up slowly towards her, "I thought we'd gotten past that." He gestured at the wand she was pointing at him.

Ginny stubbornly kept the wand aimed at him, as she moved up the stairs, away from him. She did not speak because she was thinking. She had to take down her apparition wards, apparate inside her flat and put the wards back in place in less than a minute, so Draco would not try to stop her or apparate into the flat with her.

He stopped a mere step away from her, as she reached the landing in front of her flat.

"What changed, Ginerva?" He asked, the tone of his voice so quiet and placid, it reminded her of the way he kissed her.

Then suddenly, like a flood breaking through a dam, the emotional exhaustion she had been feeling the past week - from resisting him and her tremulous feelings for him, concealing all that she knew from her colleagues, trying to do the right thing by making all those futile efforts to find evidence to put him in Azkaban - finally got to her and brought down her defenses.

So when he came and put his arms around her, she could not think of any reason _why not._

He kissed right there and then, a fiercely passionate wanton kiss, as if he had wanted to kiss her for the longest time and could not possibly rein in the urge any longer. The thought that he wanted her so strongly made Ginny feel weak in the knees.

How she managed to take down her apparition wards and apparate with him into her flat, she did not know. She was incapable of any rational thought. All she could do was _feel_ – his lips against hers, his tongue entwined with hers, his angular body pressed up against her own as he led her towards her room, towards her bed.

She should have stopped him then, pushed him away and told him '_No_', looked him in the eye and said he was going too far. She had done so with all the other guys she had been with except Dean, whom she had wanted to get it over with and find out what it was all about since she had been a rather audacious teenager, and Harry, whom she had loved.

However, since pure, untainted desire was controlling all of her senses, at that moment, all she really wanted was to be completely drenched in his rain of kisses, to wrap him around her in the fashion of a second skin.

As they slipped into bed, completely naked, he murmured in her ear, "Did you know: women prefer being made love to in their own bed?"

"Is that why you came here?" She gasped, as his hand clasped the flesh of her right breast firmly.

"A man does not wait two hours for a woman to come home unless he wants something from her." Malfoy mumbled into the skin at the base of her throat.

"And what is it you want?" Ginny breathed heavily as his lips followed the path of his hands.

He paused, drew level with her, his gray eyes glinting in the moonlight filtering through the window while he stared down at her.

"I want you." He said it quietly but the intensity of his want in his voice and in his gaze knocked Ginny a loop.

_Here is a man who does not mince his words or play games,_ Ginny thought, _He is exactly the man I have always sought._

He took his time with her, tasting and touching every part of her in a languid and languorous manner that brought her closer and closer to the edge, before finally entering her.

As he moved within her, Ginny thought about forever and ever, about white picket fences, about children with wheat blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes and about waking up every morning with Draco's arms draped around her.

* * *

When they were done, she expected him to get dressed and leave but instead he lay beside her, breathing in deeply and slowly as he stared up the ceiling, deep in thought. 

"What are you thinking about?" Ginny asked, turning so that she was facing him.

"Why didn't you come for supper on Monday?" Draco asked, sidestepping her question.

Ginny blocked her mind before answering. "I had work." She lied.

Wanting to change the topic of conversation, "So how do you do it?" She asked, referring to how he had gotten access to the Malfoy vault all these years without any chance of being incriminated.

"Do what?" Draco asked, raising himself on his elbow so that he could look at her.

"You _must_ know by now."

"Oh. Gringotts." Draco stated, finally realizing what Ginny was talking about.

"How do _you_ think I did it?" He turned the question back on her.

Ginny told him her postulation. A slight smirk was playing on his lips as he nodded his head, confirming it. His eyes, however, were completely serious.

"You can't tell me who your contact is at Gringotts, can you?" Ginny asked, hoping otherwise.

"No, not even if he's a goblin or a wizard." Draco stated firmly.

"I wouldn't have expected anything less." Ginny sighed, wearily.

Draco looped a strand of her red hair around his finger, "I always hated the color of your hair."

"And now?" Ginny asked, yawning, her eyelids heavy.

"I suppose I'm impartial to it." He murmured before yawning as well. He rested his head on the pillow, beside hers and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

When Ginny woke the next morning, she was glad it was a Sunday and she did not have to rush off for work. She watched Draco sleeping, his pale face, his fine features, his sinuous muscles, his chest rising and falling with each breath and she decided she had never seen anything more beautiful or perfect. 

She did not feel any remorse about what had happened the previous night. All she felt was superfluous desire, rising like a wave in her abdomen as she traced her finger along his jaw.

He barely stirred, his eyelids fluttering as he dreamt in his sleep. He looked so much younger, almost like the boy she used to loathe back in Hogwarts. She would not have thought at that time, that one day she would wake up in her own bed, next to Draco.

Then, out of the blue, like an abstract thought that popped out of nowhere, it occurred to her that she could kill him now, if she wanted to. She reached for her dress robes, which were lying on the floor beside the bed and found her wand in its pocket.

She moved back towards him, placed the tip of her wand against his chest, where she presumed his heart to be. She wondered if she could actually do it, if she could kill him.

"You can't do it." His eyes fluttered open, as he spoke, startling her.

"What makes you so sure?" Ginny asked, knowing that he had used Legilimency to find out what she was thinking, as she had not blocked her mind yet.

In one fluid movement, he pinned her down against the bed. He removed her wand from the slack grip of her hand, tossing it across the room. His eyes were dilated pools of silver, the way they looked when he kissed her or made love to her.

"I am you." He murmured as his hand traveled the soft curve of her belly. "You are me." His fingers gently dipped in between the hollows of her thighs inciting a gasp of pleasure from her. "If you kill me, you'll kill a part of yourself." He whispered, before making love to her all over again.

**_TBC_**

* * *

**A/N: PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK..**


	6. Part Five

**BOTH SIDES NOW**

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is not mine.._

* * *

**Part Five**

_How do you know if you have fallen in love?_ That was the question that was running through Ginny's mind over the next few weeks.

If it was yearning for that person at odd hours of the day, feeling as if your heart would implode when he touched you, feeling a delicious sense of peacefulness when you rested your head on his shoulder, then, yes, Ginny had fallen irrevocably in love with Draco Malfoy.

There was a powerful heated intensity to what they shared – something Ginny had never experienced before. Perhaps because all her previous relationships had been when she was a mere teenager, when the boys involved had been more her friend than her lover and had been rather young and inexperienced themselves.

Maybe it was because she was older now and this was how grownup relationships were like. Yet, deep down, Ginny knew otherwise – what she had with Draco was beyond ordinary.

For here she was with a man she had been bred to hate, trained to kill and yet instead of inciting hate and destruction in her, he excited her and calmed her at the same time – it was a wondrous feeling.

With one look, he made her toes curl with desire. With one gentle caress, he completely floored her. With one kiss, she was fully undone.

Yet, when they lay in bed together, after passionate lovemaking, she felt safe and secure in his arms as they talked or sometimes simply enjoyed the silence.

When they would go up to her rooftop in the cover of the night and he would point out the entire constellation, even Scorpio the one that stung the quickest and hurt the most, Ginny felt calm and contented being with him, beside him.

After a while the only thing that could lull her into sleep was the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as her head rested on it.

She finally understood what Harry was going on about finding someone who was your greatest source of comfort. For that was exactly what Draco was for her.

He was also a really good listener, making it easy for her to open up to him - save for the few times he would make a few mandatory snide remarks whenever she mentioned her brother, Hermione or Harry.

He too talked about himself, about how Pansy had been the first girl he had slept with. He told her how he never wanted to join the Deatheaters and had been forced to do so but after a while, he had made it work to his advantage, learning a lot while under the wings of Snape and Voldermort. He told her about how he ruled the rest of his housemates while at Hogwarts just because he was a Malfoy.

Yet, at times, she felt as if he was not as open to her as she was to him. He was always so evasive when it came to himself, his intentions, his aspirations and his family, revealing only what was necessary for her to know. If she pressed him for details, he would either change the topic or disrupt her train of thoughts by kissing her.

Nonetheless, Ginny did not hold it against him – she herself rarely talked about her work to him, preferring not to divulge any details about the Malfoy case that he did not already know.

Besides, as Ginny began to realize, love did not really have a conscience.

Who cared about what was not being said, about the little lies told - like the time she lied to him about losing the previous portkey so he had to give her another one to get to the Malfoy Manor – who cared about what was right or wrong when Draco was around.

Like the time Draco revealed that he found the Dark Arts very compelling, as she browsed through the books in the Malfoy Library at the Malfoy Manor and observed aloud that they were mostly pertaining to the Dark Arts.

He explained how he had been raised to have a reverence for the amount of power Dark Arts held. He had a thirst to learn all that there was to know about it. Ginny could see that. It was evident in the feral gleam in his eyes as he spoke about it, how it could suck a wizard in and wind up controlling the wizard, if the wizard was not strong enough to rein it in and use it for his own gains.

His words should have sent her scuttling in the other direction but his uncharacteristic display of emotion as he spoke about the Dark Arts, only helped her understand him in an even greater depth, making her care for him even more.

There were times when Ginny sensed that he cared for her too. Like the time she had come back home late from work and tumbled into bed exhausted, to be woken up a few minutes later by Draco who was slipping into bed, next to her, having portkey-ed all the way from the Malfoy Manor, not to make love since she was too bone weary to do so, but just '_to keep you company_'. He did just that, lying down beside her, reciting his favorite poems out loud, his voice rumbling through his chest as she rested her head against it, sending her into a dreamless slumber.

Now that she had taken down the anti-portkey barrier, he could come and go as he pleased. They spent most nights at her place but some weekends were spent at the Malfoy Manor, a wonderful place to spend long, idyllic afternoons, exploring the house, getting lost in underground passages and tunnels, finding a dark alcove to snog each other silly, devoid of the disapproving glares from the Malfoy ancestors in their portraits.

All this - her feelings for Draco, what she had going on with him – did not change her attitude towards her job or the Malfoy investigations.

Sometimes she even amazed herself. It was as if there were two different facets to her persona – one was the Auror working relentlessly to capture Malfoy, the other was the woman who could barely breathe or speak when Draco put his arms around her.

She still loved her job; she still went for the Wizengmot hearing regarding their appeal against the Minister of Magic, which was turned down because no one was willing to implicate the Minister or the MOM office. Even then, she and Tonks tried to push for twenty-four hours surveillance on Malfoy's vault with the unrelenting Goblins.

But after a while, the Malfoy Investigations were beginning to lose steam. Dave and Artie were already paying more attention to other cases Kingsley had assigned them. Kingsley himself was having a tough time fishing out Malfoy's inside sources at the Ministry of Magic. Not everyone seemed willing to undergo an interview with the Head of the Auror Office, especially when they were told not to mention it to anyone else since Kingsley had not gotten authorization for it.

There _were_ slight differences though - She did not spend all night working as she used to. But her colleagues saw it as a response to the hunt on Malfoy drying up, rather than because she was engaged in a torrid affair with Britain's most wanted Deatheater. Not that anyone of them would ever have guessed.

Not even Hermione who apparated to her flat once when Ginny accidentally left her apparition wards down – she had become terribly slack when it came to security around her home of late. Ginny had been in the shower with Draco, and it was Draco who had heard someone's voice, even though it had been muffled by the shower curtains and the water beating down on them. That was the first time Ginny had seen him do wandless magic. He had summoned his robes and his wand, grabbed his portkey and disappeared.

Ginny had got out of the shower to find Hermione waiting for her in the kitchen, wanting to know if she was going to come for dinner at The Burrow tonight, something Ginny had been avoiding lately.

Somehow, going home, seeing her parents, having dinner with her family would highlight the inherent differences between herself and Draco – from their beliefs to their lifestyles to their social backgrounds to their family upbringing. It would only force her to face the bleak reality that what she had with Draco could not possibly last.

* * *

Ginny apparated into her flat late one dusky April evening, slipped off her cloak, discarded it onto the couch, exhausted from another day of stakeouts, raids and filling in reports – nothing pertaining to the Malfoy invesitgations which seemed to have come to a stand still despite Ginny persistently reminding her team members to try and come up with innovative ways to nab Malfoy. 

It was then she noticed that the room was lit only by candles floating in the air; candles that seemed to form a path from the door down the hallway, through the living room to the bedroom. With a smile on her lips and excitement dancing like fairies in her stomach, she read the note pinned on the pillow Draco preferred to use when he spend the night with her.

_Ginevra, _

_It's been exactly a month since we've been together. I thought it would be a good reason for us to celebrate. I got you something. It's beneath the pillow. Put it on and come on up to the roof terrace._

_Draco_

Ginny slid the pillow aside only to discover a huge slim box. The box contained cream dress robes made of the softest silk she had ever felt. She slipped it on, as well as a pair of pearl earrings she had inherited from her maternal grandmother before heading up the stairs to the rooftop.

There was a table set for two in the middle of the open-air terrace. Candles floated above it, lending the entire place a soft, cozy glow. Draco was seated at the table and he rose from his seat when he saw her, moving towards her. As he leaned down to kiss her, she noticed the sobriety in his eyes, the tension in the set of his jaw but when he drew away from her after the kiss, he seemed like his usual self – impassive and composed.

"You're beautiful." He ran his eyes over her appraisingly.

Ginny brushed his comment aside with a careless wave of her hand. "It's the dress."

She expected him to smirk and agree with her but he shook his head, disagreeably, "No, it's you."

Ginny blushed.

"So what's for dinner? I'm starving." She moved towards the table, to check out the dishes laid out on the table.

Draco popped open the wine bottle, pouring a glass out for her and for himself, "Whatever you like. I've charmed the dishes. Just say out loud what you want and it'll appear."

Ginny took a seat and did just that, without even bothering to wait for Draco who seemed to find her impatience and great appetite largely amusing.

Ginny blamed it on growing up with six brothers who had larger than life appetites.

As Draco took his seat and began to eat and they engaged in lighthearted conversational banter, Draco abruptly, asked her, " This is something I've been curious about – why did you take on the hunt for me, even when everyone thought I was dead?"

Ginny bit her lip, as she thought about his question. "Moody kinda planted it in my head and you know how I like to take on challenging tasks that nobody else is willing to take on. The more impossible the end seems, the more I want to get there – that's what compelled me to keep looking for you all these years."

"But it never crossed your mind that I might actually be dead?"

"Not once. No body was found and that was more than enough reason to doubt your 'death'." Ginny stated resolutely.

Draco shot her a smirk, "Well, I suppose, I must thank you for believing in my survival."

He rose from his seat, then, and held his hand out to Ginny, who took it apprehensively, with a tentative smile.

With a wave of his hand, soft, mellow music filled the night air. She was still not used to his ability to use wandless magic. She found it intimidating in a way. He had assured her that he could only use it for very basic spells. He said he had acquired this particular skill after The War, while living in the Malfoy Manor, after a great deal of research on wandless magic and countless hours of practice.

_Is this a lasting treasure  
or just a moment's pleasure?  
Can I believe the magic of your sighs?  
Will you still love me tomorrow?_

"Dance with me." He said, rather than asked, as he wound his arms around her hips, pulling her towards him.

She willingly relented, coiling her arms around his neck, resting her head on his chest, her eyes half-shut and listening the sound of his heart beating, as well as to the words of the song washing over them.

_Tonight, with words unspoken,  
You say that I'm the only one  
But will my heart be broken  
When the night  
Meets the morning sun?_

She felt him inhale the scent of her hair, and then his lips pressed against the top of her head. She wondered if maybe it was not so impossible for this to last, maybe not forever, but at least for a considerable amount of time.

_I'd like to know that your love  
Is a love I can be sure of  
So, tell me now and I won't ask again  
Will you still love me tomorrow?_

The song reached its last note and they stayed in each other's arms, still moving, as if guided by the music in their heads. Then, suddenly, without any warning, the skies opened up and rain cascaded down on them in the typical fashion of a Spring shower, without forewarning but able to drench a person in seconds. By the time they ran back down into her flat, they were drenched through and through. Her hair was stuck to her face; her robes were soaked through and clung tightly to her body.

"I planned every single detail. I wanted it to go perfectly." Draco grumbled as he slipped off his wet robes. He had used his wand to get rid of the table, chairs and food as they were fleeing the rain.

Ginny smiled, amused by his display of displeasure at such a trivial issue, confirming her views regarding his controlling nature. She pressed herself up against him, looking into his gray eyes, "Sometimes, some things cannot be controlled, they _just_ happen." She said, cupping his face with her slender hands.

"They just do, don't they?" He murmured, and for the first time, in all those days, hours, minutes, she had spent with him, she got a glimpse of the ravaged, anguished man beneath the unaffected façade. The sadness was in his eyes, nowhere else.

It was gone as quickly as it was there but Ginny was sure of what she had seen and when she kissed him, she kissed him with everything she felt, hoping to make him forget all that was causing him such sorrow.

* * *

When Ginny apparated from her flat the next day morning, Draco was still in her bed, looking as if he was sleeping the deep slumber of angels. She had no heart to wake him before she left for work as she usually did, so she had simply left a note on her pillow telling him that she was off to work and would see him when she got back tonight. 

She was walking towards her cubicle while browsing through the Daily Prophet simultaneously when Kinglsey waylaid her, asking her to follow him into his office.

He asked her to close the door behind her, something he had never done before, causing a pinprick of alarm in her chest.

Could Kingsley have found out about the portkey she had withheld, or worse, her relationship with Draco? Had her two worlds finally collided? Would she be forced to choose between being with Draco and keeping her job?

She thought of waking up in the morning with Draco beside her, Draco who was the epitome of almost everything she had _ever_ dreamt of in a man and she knew what her choice would be.

As she sat down, on the chair, across from Kingsley, she realized that he looked terribly worn out, almost as if he aged in the last few hours.

He looked down at a file on the desk in front of him, before looking up at her, fixing her with a scrutinizing look.

Then without a word, he pushed the file across the table towards her. A great sense of foreboding flooded her every pore till her hands felt gelatinous and she could no longer feel her fingers as she opened the file. It looked and felt very much like someone else's hands lifting the photos in the file and looking through them one by one.

What should have been air in her lungs was panic, what should have been blood in her veins was ice, what should have been saliva in her mouth was the cold acrid taste of betrayal.

There were thirty photos in all of herself and Draco Malfoy, all in her flat, taken over the span of the entire month they were together; pictures of them together in her kitchen, her living room, her rooftop terrace, him sleeping in her bed. Later on, she would be thankful for the lack of photos of them in any compromising position.

A part of her knew, instantly, even though she could scarcely believe so, that it was the work of Draco. Only _he_ had the access to her house that would enable him to do this. Only _he_ had something to gain out of exposing their affair.

He must have placed cameras all over her flat, using the concealing charm to hide them and activating them whenever he wanted. Or he could have gotten someone else to come into her flat, under an invisibility cloak or disillusionment charm, and take the photos. She could not be sure how he did it. _Suddenly_, she realized she did not know Draco _at all._

The whole thing was _surreal_. She was sure, no, she was _hoping_ that she was having a really bad nightmare and would wake up soon, to her life the way it was.

But then she looked up at Kingsley who was watching her and knew this was no dream.

He finally spoke up, his tone curt and stern, "I analyzed the photos myself. They're genuine copies, not doctored."

Ginny nodded. She knew they were real, she remembered doing those things in the photos – cooking with Draco, eating with him, snuggled up on the couch with him, sharing a drink late one night etc.

"I think you owe me an explanation." Kingsley stated.

Ginny snagged her lips with her teeth as she tried to think rationally. There was no other way out of this mess other than coming clean. Besides, the unbearable pain of it all was getting to her and she wanted to let it all out before it swallowed her whole.

She told him everything – from receiving the rose and the note, to why she withheld it, to how she had used it to go and see him, to Draco's dinner invitation, then she attempting to avoid him but to no avail and their entire affair that lasted for a month

"Why?" Kingsley asked, bitterly. The disappointment in his voice and in the contorting of his usually friendly face was blatant. It was then Ginny began to cry, hot stinging tears welling up in her eyes, as all that happened finally sank in.

"**_I don't know_**." She murmured, her voice thick with tears, "I _tried_ to tell you to take me off the case."

Kingsley shook his head, rising from his seat, pacing the office, "I didn't know you were _that_ emotionally vested."

"He kept pursuing me! He said he wanted me! He just would **_not_** take 'no' for an answer!" Ginny cried out, indignantly, white hot anger bubbling up within her against Malfoy and what he had done to her. She felt as if she had been brutally pillaged. It was as if something that had been precious to her was now twisted into some sort of evil perversion.

Kingsley ran his hand over his bald head, then frustrated, slammed his fist on his table, frightening Ginny who had never seen him so livid before.

"Do you have any idea what you've gotten yourself into! This will cost you your job, your reputation! I might have to launch an investigation against you! You've compromised the Malfoy investigations! You've withheld crucial evidence! You've obtained information that could have been used to help the case but is now considered inadmissible because of your involvement with him!" He ranted at her, obviously on a roll.

"And because of all this, the Malfoy case will have to be closed and once the case is closed, it can never be opened again and according to Wizarding Laws, it means that he can never be charged for all those crimes he committed in the War that is listed in the case! He's a **_free man_**! Which is _exactly_ what he wanted! Which is why he did all **_this_**!" He roared, and gesticulated at the photos that were scattered on the desk in front of her.

Ginny, cowered in her seat, her head bend down as a submission of guilt and defeat, tears falling fast into her lap. She wished she could stop crying. She wished she were not so weak. She wished she had not fallen for Malfoy's ploy, believed all his sweet words and given into his smoldering looks and gentle caresses.

The door burst open then, as Tonks stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

She looked at Ginny slumped in the chair, her face blotchy and red from crying and then at Kingsley who was pacing behind his desk, outraged and at the end of his wits. Kingsley had come to her the moment he had discovered the file but had insisted on handling Ginny by himself.

"Calm down a minute, Kingsley, and listen to me. How did you obtain that file?" She asked him, lightly.

She shot Ginny a look of reassurance mingled with embarrassed pity. Tonks was not one to judge people. She believed that all humans were inherently prone to making mistakes and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

"I found it on my desk when I came in this morning." He replied, his anger dissipating slightly.

"Do you know who might have put it on your desk?" She asked.

"No. I don't have a clue."

A triumphant glint in her eye, "Then it's considered inadmissible evidence - meaning that we wouldn't have to stop the Malfoy investigations." She concluded.

Ginny felt slightly relieved, "I'll take myself off the case, immediately. Just let it proceed. I promise you, I never gave any information to Malfoy – nothing that he did not already know." She said, earnestly, desperately.

"Why should I believe you?" Kingsley scowled down at her.

Tonks made a disapproving noise in her throat.

Ginny fought back her tears, her chest incredibly tight, "I would _never_ betray our cause. It was my heart that betrayed me, that's all."

"I should fire your arse." Kingsley told her, gruffly.

"I'll resign if you want me to." Ginny offered, her heart breaking as the words left her mouth. Her career, her life, all gone.

"I think it would be best if you did." Tonks said, gently.

She was being pragmatic and Ginny knew it. It was best to keep this quiet and for her to resign and lie low. If she stayed, the threat of being investigated and implicated would hang over her like a thundercloud, for the rest of her career as an Auror. There was so much Tonks and Kingsley could cover up for her.

"It's still too risky to continue the case," Kingsley was saying to Tonks, "If the MOM finds out about this, which they most probably will since Malfoy's not stupid and he has connections higher-up, they'll stop the investigations immediately. Either way we're going to get nailed. At least if we close the case now, and keep this whole thing quiet, Malfoy won't bother alerting his sources in the MOM office about the security breach here."

"What makes you so sure he hasn't?" Tonks asked.

"They haven't bombarded my office yet, have they?" Kingsley shot back, his nerves completely frayed.

"That bastard's got us between a rock and hard place, hasn't he?" Tonks muttered, darkly, referring to Malfoy.

Kingsley nodded wearily, sinking into his seat.

Ginny sat there, feeling the guilt wearing down on her like a block of granite.

She wanted to go back home and tear apart every piece of furniture Malfoy had come into contact with. She wanted to scream till the tightness in her chest, the constriction in her throat went away. Most of all, she wanted to put her head on her mother's lap and cry herself to sleep, the way she used to when she was a young girl and had just woken up from a terrible nightmare.

* * *

The Malfoy case was closed that day. Only Tonks and Kingsley knew the real reason behind it. Everyone else pegged it to the Auror in charge of the case, Ginny Weasley's resignation, as well as the lack of progress of the investigations itself. The reason Ginny gave for her resignation was a much-needed change in career choice. Only Tonks and Kingsley knew the real reason and they planned to take it to their graves. 

When Ginny went back to her flat later that day, Tonks accompanied her - just in case Malfoy happened to be there waiting for her, as unlikely as Ginny knew it was. Draco would not return ever again, now that he had completed his plan and took all that was for the taking.

Tonks did a thorough sweep of her flat and uncovered the cameras – one in each room, floating in the corner of the ceiling. But _that_ did not send Ginny to complete pieces. It was always the small trivial things, like the note she had left for him that morning with all the little hearts and flowers she had drawn all over it.

When Ginny saw it still stuck to the pillow untouched, the fragile crust of her muddled restrain cracked and then broke entirely as she sank to her knees and let out a cry that erupted from the pit of her gut, a cry that was filled with such primal, fresh and raw agony, that Tonks had to step outside of the flat with tears in her eyes for the apparent rupture in Ginny's heart, the brokenness in her spirit.

**_TBC_**

* * *


	7. Epilogue

**BOTH SIDES NOW**

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is not mine..._

* * *

_I'd sell my soul _

_I'd bleed myself dry _

_Just to be with you._

_Nobody else for me but you._

* * *

**Epilogue **

Ginny should have seen it coming. She knew what kind of a man he was. He never implied that he had changed, never said he regretted all those things he did during the War. He never alluded to being different from the man he had always been. He had never bothered to give the impression that he was redeemable, never promised her that he was not being double faced.

She had been aware of all that during the time they were together, and yet she had let herself fall for him, tumbling down from the cliff's edge till she hit the rough jagged rocks below.

And now, there was nothing.

She felt as if she was fading away, with no purpose to her existence, no anchor holding her down to earth. She felt completely disconnected from everything and everyone around her. She would sit at the dining table with the rest of her family at The Burrow and everything they talked about went right over her head. She did not care to listen or to talk to them.

After a while, she stopped going over to The Burrow, growing more and more distant from her family and friends who were not able to empathize with her since they had no idea why she _really_ quit her job and why her demeanor was unnaturally quiet and woeful of late.

All they did was give advice on how she could get herself out this slump, how she could get past this, whatever it was.

When her savings began to run low, she decided to get a job working in Flourish and Blotts as a sales assistant, turning down her brothers' offer to work for them at their shop. She preferred working in the cloak of anonymity rather than surrounded by the boisterous, cheerful company of her brothers, and her family and friends who would constantly be dropping in.

She shunned company, kept to herself, worked industriously at Flourish and Botts, which pleased her employer and went home immediately after she was done or after picking up some groceries.

She ate little, her normally healthy appetite diminished because whatever she ate tasted like ashes in her mouth. It was as if she were a house that had been burnt down by a fire and all that was left were ashes, in her mouth and in the place where her heart used to be.

There were days when all she could think about was how Malfoy had made her believe that he wanted her, when all he had really wanted was to gain his freedom, even if it was at her expense. Then she would burn up with a silent rage, lying awake for hours, fatigued by the bitterness coursing through her.

Then they were days when the memory of Draco moving inside of her, all those countless times they had fornicated, made her want to rip her insides out.

Other times she could not help herself from recollecting anymore than she could stop herself from breathing - the way they used to argue because he wanted to sleep with the windows open and she liked to keep her room warm, the way he used to bring three or four pieces of his favorite literature along with him every time he came over and spent the time interspersed with snogging and shagging, reading aloud to her because he always believed books and bed combined were a potent aphrodisiac.

Those memories made her ache for him, which caused her to despise herself even more.

There were times when she would think about how she herself, in a way, had been double faced by continuing the Malfoy investigations all that time she had been with Draco – this thought only served to fill her with confusion and despair.

At times like that, Ginny often wondered if death would be the only real escape from this turmoil.

Draco had asked her a riddle once: if a frog fell down a fifty-foot wall and had to climb his way out, making three feet of progress every day but slipping two feet every night, in how many days would he escape?

Ginny's answer, which happened to be the correct answer according to Draco, was that it took the frog forty-eight days. The trick was realizing that the frog climbed one foot per day after all that was said and done but on the forty-eighth day he climbed three feet and reached the top of the well before he could slide back down again.

Now, however, she believed that the frog never escaped, because a frog that falls fifty feet just does not get back up.

The thing people liked to believe was that time was a great healer. But an entire year later, Ginny felt as if a century had passed. She was not even close to thirty and she already felt like an old woman.

Imagine, Draco had said to her once, that the present was simply a reflection of the future. Imagine that we spent our whole lives staring into a mirror with the future at our backs, seeing it only in the reflection of what was here and now. Some of us would begin to believe that we could see tomorrow better by turning around to look at it directly. But those who did, without even realizing it, would have lost the key to the perspective they once had - the one thing they would never be able to see in their future was themselves.

Now that she thought about it, she realized she was facing the wrong way. This whole year she had been determined to get on with her life by moving on, forgetting the past, looking forward but to little avail because in the end, it was a blind way to face life, a stance that allowed the world to pass you by, just as you tried to come to grips with it.

Thus, maybe, she had already made her decision before receiving the package. Exactly one year, two months and three weeks ever since she resigned as an Auror, she quit her job at Flourish and Blotts. When she got back to her flat, after a heavy meal at Cauldron's Inn and a long meandering walk, the package was waiting outside her flat, leaning against the door.

It was a long brown tube, so unexpectedly light; she thought it might be empty. She stood in the landing outside her flat and cracked the tube open; curiosity getting the better of her, hoping it was not one of her brothers' silly products from their shop.

In the glow of the light from her wand, the barrel seemed hollow. Only when she stuck her finger inside, did she feel something thin curled around the circumference. She pulled it out – it was an oil painting. She rolled it open and then gasped, dropping it on the floor, her fingers trembling and suddenly slick with sweat.

It was the seventeenth century Vermeer painting she had admired in the Malfoy Manor library, the one with girl writing a letter.

As she picked up the canvas from the ground, the elegant, luxuriantly clothed girl in the painting smiled at her with that gentle, guarded smile of hers.

It was obviously the original piece and Ginny knew that there was only one person who owned the original – Draco Malfoy.

She apparated into her house and laid it on the table in the living room, as her hands were too unsteady to hold it. She reached into the tube again, looking for something she had missed.

There was a piece of parchment. She pulled it out and unfurled it, feeling the return of her pulse, the drumming in her ears. The note read:

_Dearest Ginevra,_

_I had to do what had to be done. I value my freedom above all else – that is the reason why even though I can, I will never be the next Dark Lord._

_I am in Florence, Italy. Just ask anyone here where the Malfoy Villa is and they will know._

_We gave each other what we never expected to find. That's why._

_Arrivederci,_

_Draco_

No '_I am sorry'_; no '_I love you'_. Just plain honesty – that was what had drawn Ginny to him.

_We gave each other what we never expected to find, _she read the words again, and wondered how he understood even when she did not.

She was fighting the sensation that she had a single chance, an opportunity that could bleed into nothing if she turned her back on it.

It was at that precise moment, Ginny understood that no matter how much she tried to remind herself of how Malfoy had deceived her, no matter how much she did to move on with her life, even if she got married to someone else and had half a dozen children of her own, a part of her would always belong to Malfoy.

Ginny realized that not only did love not have a conscience; it was wholly prideless and senseless as well.

For here she was, all this while incapable of forgiving Draco for what he had done to her, but _now_ absolutely ready to choose the path that led right back into his arms just because she could not imagine her life without him, despite how flawed and unredeemable he was.

It was pathetic really to even contemplate such a ridiculous notion – going back to Draco, but Ginny could think of nothing else she would want more. His words, his invitation, this gesture itself, were like milk on the wounds in her heart, soothing her hurt.

That was what love did. It shrank the most burdensome of grudges to a trivial speck, it whispered forgiveness in its every breath, it made a brutal betrayal seem like just another sacrifice to be made in order to take the path of eternal love, however limited in scope eternity might be.

There would be bags to pack and people to notify about her whereabouts.

Even as she began to realize the magnitude of what she was doing, her heart, like a bird in a cage was already ruffling its wings with the ache of anticipation.

And somewhere in the city of rebirth, where there were pigeons cooing on rooftops, cathedral bells tolling and the Duomo looming in the distance, Draco was sitting in the patio of his villa, sipping his favorite elf-wine, waiting and thinking about what Ginny had said to him the last night they were together, how some things were _just meant to be._

And there they were, sitting in their seats, continents apart, thinking the same thought at the same time, inherently together.

**_----------------THE END-----------------_**


End file.
